LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

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Slielt;I-<0_& 8 

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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



OSBULBAHA 



AND 



OTH^R poe^ms. 



BY 



ROBT. D. W1NDES, 



)?YRIGHT $* 

JU1 20 189T 






NEW ORLEANS : 

Published by the Author. 

1891. 






Entered according to the Act of Congress, in the year iSqr, 

By ROBT. D. WINDES, 

In the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C. 



PRESS OF 

L. GRAHAM 4- SON, 

NEW ORLEANS. 



OSBULBAHA. 



OSBULBAHA. 



CANTO I. 

To Flowerland's* midmost tract and that wide 
vale, 
Atchafalaya and the pines between ; 
Let fly your fancy you who list my tale, 

And go back with me to the pristine scene, 
When spread the unbroken boundless sea of 
green 
And from wide ranging let the wearied sight, 
Rest on a plateau folded in whose height 

A lake, eye fashioned, looks from the land's face 
With bay crown shores on one side steeply 
browed ; 
Beyond a prairie in the forehead's place, 

With streams for wrinkles, time and weather 

plow'd. 
Holds open converse with sunshine and cloud, 
On the other side the fancy to fulfil, 
The tears of the eye in a cypress brake distill. 

*Flowerland — Florida, all the country being called Florida by the 
Spaniards at that time, 



6 OSBULBAHA. 

Three hundred years ago and fifty more 

Along this lake's fair brow one morn of May 

Nature her freshest, brightest aspect wore ; 
The birds were singing, each a sweeter lay ; 
Each tree and vine had something blithe to say, 

The bays were in the fullest of full bloom 

And opening flower with open strove for room. 

The sky was bluer, purer the mild air 

Than they have been since we who hold the 
land 
By right of cunning and complexions fair 
Drew feverish breath herein and think it 

grand 
To hew and burn and let no beauty stand; 
The lake slept with the sky deep in its breast 
Like maid with vision of her lover blest. 

When by this lake beneath the bays in bloom, 
An Indian princess, beautiful as night, 

Was sitting, whose dusk radiance did illume 
The shade, and round her to fulfil her light 
In graceful order sat a bevy bright 

Of maidens only less well formed and tall 

Than she, with hands and feet less fine and 
small. 



OSBULBAHA. 7 

Her hue was just that delicate shade of brown 
Which the magnolia'syoung leaves' under side 
Flushes against the rude winds for a frown ; 
Her eyes were liquid black and looked calm 

pride 
From underneath arched eyebrows high and 
wide; 
Her face was long and oval, her nose Roman, 
Ruling a sensitive mouth and chin all woman. 

Her dress showed Nature's own simplicity 
But nature's richness lacked notnor her grace, 

Nothing too much, was its felicity, 

And being adapted to the time and place ; 
It suited well a journey or the chase; 

Of the loom's textures she wore not a thread, 

Of skins of beasts her garments all were made. 

But these were cured and dressed with pains so 
nice 
That nothing could be softer, suppler, 
smoother; 
Some kept the living beast's unfading dyes; 
With smoke, of the Indian races the first 

mother, 
Others were colored, there was not another 



8 OSBULBAHA. 

Tint they preferred because it was their own, 
A queer race instinct seen in them alone. 

To name some things the princess then had on 
May move disgust or may even raise alarms; 
For if not scared by skins of pard and fawn 
Which her smooth shoulders veiled and 

bosom's charms 
What wreathed theirsleekness round her neck 
and arms 
Might startle a dame or critic not well bred — 
They were live garter snakes — alive, not 
dead. 

But what comes next will make some flesh to 
crawl ; 
She wore a skirt just reaching to her knees 
Of skins of rattlesnakes, the heads and all, 
With their own sinews stitched so neat no 

crease 
Or seam could be made out — all seemed one 
piece ; 
A hundred rattles, with their horrid clang, 
The edge fringed, the zone fenced twice as 
many a fang. 



OSBULBAHA. 9 

Her slender feet and ankles were encased 
In what were almost natural moccasins, 
For they were neither soled nor sewed nor laced, 
The pair being two young alligators" skins 
Dressed whole with heads and tails and feet 
and fins, 
Measured while still alive to match her feet 
Which just the place filled, filled once with 
their meat. 

Her raven hair was her head's ornament, 

So long that when she stood at her full height 
It swept the ground, so thick that its descent 
Was like a tempest's blackness fallen on 

night; 
It took six maidens it to comb and dight, 
A task in which they jealously contended ; 
Their chief pride was to make their mistress 
splendid. 

To-day they had given it their most loving toil, 
Combing and plaiting it in many a braid, 

Thick as their hands could hold and live with oil 
From rich, fat seeds of the magnolia made, 
Which store the flowers' fragrance as they 
fade ; 



10 OSBULBAHA. 

Braid around braid in coil round coil within 
They wound, then crossed and fastened with a 
pin. 

Last on her forehead, classically low, 

They set her turban of red heron's plumes, 

And then the princess was arrayed, and know 
You shall now for what fate she blooms; 
It is decreed that ere this day's light glooms 

Osbulbaha, the Mockingbird, by name, 

One of two chieftains for his bride shall claim. 

The Avoyelles tribe, of which she was the flower, 
The picturesque prairie, which still bears their 
name 

And spite of cultivation keeps its dower 

Of beauty, and the purple woods that frame 
And bayou of the lake that girds the same 

And islands it, had for their realm and park 

Wherein they hunted happy as the lark. 

They were the simplest of all savages ; 

They had no weapons but the bow and arrow, 

Blow guns and tomahawks to fashion these; 
But, though their range of art was very narrow, 
Their work was nice as that of any sparrow 



OSBULBAHA. 11 

About her nest ; their baskets' woven tints 
Of architecture seem to give some hints. 

They were more blest than cursed for what they 

wanted ; 

No learned superstition weighed them down 

With fear of devils they were never haunted ; 

They did not worship God or even a gown : 

What evil they did was not for His renown : 

They killed and scalped, but did not give the 

glory 
To a prince of peace they praised with hands 
all gory. 

They wanted other blessings we have got, 
But a word to the wise — I say no mo' — 

I would not as in boyhood change my lot 
To have been an Indian even so long ago, 
And roamed the free woods with unerring 
bow, 

Unless Osbulbaha I might have been, 

Through love not luck the lucky man to win. 

The chiefs of the Beloxis and Choctaws, 

Tukloossa that, Wakshay this boasts the name 



12 OSBULBAHA. 

Were then with their tribes' youth to try the 
cause, 
The princess of the Avoyelles which should 

claim ; 
With ball and rackets, the intertribal game ; 
Where now the parish seat fulfils the scene, 
Their place of trial, houseless then and clean. 

Herself to be there and abide the event 

After much wavering, many a faltering yea 

Unsaid again, the princess gave consent, 

And now she wished she might again unsay 
And put off for another year the play 

And marriage, for which she had little mind, 

Since neither chief love's way to her could find. 

(Jsbulbaha thus on a sea was tossed 

Of restless doubts and vague, uneasy fears 
Like a fair ship which hath her rudder lost; 
But outward calm she kept and shed no 

tears, 
For healthy nerves and a high heart were 
hers; 
She did not let her heart be buoyed with hope 
But made it lean on courage for its prop. 



OSBULBAHA. 13 

Love had as yet not cast on her his chain 

Of poisonous iron hid with honeyed flowers, 
Yet was her mind not lifted with disdain, 

But too large was to house in love's small 

bowers, 
And yearned for something far above man's 
powers ; 
She knew not what — something sublime and 

vast, 
Whose joy would not end when enjoyed at 
last. 

Osbulbaha among her maidens sat 

Silent with eyes w r ide open, but which spy 

Nothing or far or near that they look at, 

And ears that hear not speech or laugh or 

sigh 
Of these same maidens, the only mortals nigh ; 

The rest to the play ground had early gone, 

Men, women, boys and girls, was left not one. 

Osbulbaha sat on, unchanged her mood, 
'Till her companions inly restless grew, 

But outwardly they no impatience showed; 
For the respect which was their mistress' due, 
By native stoicism, not laws, they knew 



14 OSBULBAHA. 

Too well to allow of their reminding her 
Of what they felt by word or sign or stir. 

With a light laugh one lifted up her head 

At length and cried, " Fanay, fanay," the rest 
* " Fanay," repeated, and the first one said, 
" Our dogs are barking, lookout for a guest." 
But on their ears sounds fell that froze the 
jest : 
The loud crash of palmetto, voices high, 
And a strange speech — they start up with a cry. 

Osbulbaha awoke from her long trance 

And rose up, too, but not in fear or haste; 
To whence the noise comes she directs her 
glance, 
And had she known fear she would never 

have faced 
Monsters on which before her none had 
gazed : 
Men one with a strange beast with faces pale 
Dashed towards her like a hurricane of hail. 

She did not shriek or shrink or veil her eyes, 
But as the plant rejoices in the shower 

* Fanay, squirrel. 



OSBULBAHA. 15 

And takes on form and color with dark skies 
So did she grow in beauty, grace and power; 
And as a white bird when black tempests 
lower 
Flies whiter for the background of dun cloud 
So she in danger flames up pure and proud. 

Her maids behind her cower in one vast dread, 

Some stand transfixed, some sink upon the 

ground, 

The eyes of each seem starting from her head ; 

Their lips are parted, but comes forth no 

sound, 
Well if to breathe enough breath can be 
found; 
But their faith to their mistress none forgot; 
All were at one to stay and share her lot. 

What that would he they very soon would know ; 
The leader of the horsemen, such they were, 

Drew rein as he beheld them and came slow, 
Looking round cautiously of guile in fear, 
And in the op^en space when he got near, 

Forming in battle line his straggling force, 

He advanced his wings and stayed his center's 
course. 



16 OSBULBAHA. 

This move being made and all retreat cut off 
The leader called a halt and sheathed his 
sword; 
All did the same, and following him they doff 
Each knight his plumed cask and his eyes 

lowered 
Toward Osbulbaha, who on them glow 
ered : 
Then spoke the leader: " Choose each knight 

his mate, 
Osbulbaha is mine," and down he gat. 

The rest dismounted with one tilt and clank, 
And as to waiting squires their reins they 
threw 
Osbulbaha, whose eyes from flank to flank 
With closer scrutiny as they nearer drew 
Where joined these twofold monsters and 
how grew 
Had searched, thus seeing unjoint and separate 

stand 
Man and strange beast, the pairs a moment 
scanned, • 

Then in a laugh broke so clear ringing, glad 
That all the wood and its inhabitants, 



OSBULBAHA. 17 

Which by the invasion awed were dumb and 
sad. 

Awoke with joyful echo from their trance; 

Again the birds sing, squirrels bark and prance 
And woodpeckers with noisy knocks and calls 
Rout boding stillness out of Nature's halls. 

The maids whose fright had hindered them from 
seeing 
This resolution of one animal 

f o two and dislocation of its being, 
At least in any aspect whimsical, 
Laughed for a reason no less natural ; 

The laughter of their mistress mocked their fear 

And each in turn laughed at the other's scare. 

Of all the batteries men have tried to storm 
Laughter sometimes has proved hardest to 
face ; - 
Before it raw troops rarely are able to form 
And veterans even when laughed at is their 

case 
Wish themselves often in some other place, 
But in the teeth of this these knights advanced 
Full of one thought, the prize on which they had 
chanced. 

2 



18 OSBULBAHA. 

The laughter in fact they took for a flag of 
truce 
Flung out to them, and so advanced secure 
Of easy conquest, not by force but ruse, 

For their wise chief had ready a cunning 

lure, 
Believing all means pure whose end was pure, 
By which he meant to lime Osbulbaha 
Whose lofty nature at a glance he saw. 

Approaching her with all that knightly grace 
In which he had been trained in camps and 
courts, 

Which gave full value to a form and face 
Excelling any which our time reports, 
As much as in athletic, manly sports 

The men of that day passed the men of this 

The chief her brow saluted with a kiss. 

So chaste, so delicate, so full of homage, 
Osbulbaha it need not have offended 

Had she a modern prude been of a grum age, 
And she the kiss took as he had intended 
Without fuss, calmly waiting what impended; 

He next himself crossed, and with look devout 

Pointed up at the sky in words default. 



OSBULBAHA. 19 

For words had been in vain where neither 
knew 
The other's tongue, and he was well content 

To show by signs, not speak, what was untrue, 
And worse, was blasphemous for one to vent 
In words, to hint it he thought innocent, 

Namely, that Heaven was his divine abode, 

And that he was himself the son of God. 

Osbulbaha, whose nature, grave, sublime, 
Had not failed soon to assert itself over 

Her sense of fun at the fantastic mime 

Which these strange monsters had performed 

for her 
Amusement, by unhinging, as it were, 

Was quick, not slow, in seizing what was signed 

And to believe it was no less inclined. 

If any think her foolish let them weigh 

Her faith with theirs they think enlightened, 
wise, 

Received at second-hand and from hearsay; 
She saw her god, in person, with her eyes, 
With a god's power and in a godlike guise 

Mixed with or mounted on a beast unknown ; 

His eyes, hair, skin all different from her own. 



20 OSBULBAHA. 

She knew not of the sea ana world beyond ; 
Hence not of strange men who had flown 
across 
In ships — in short she had not seen a blonde; 
Her mind was, therefore, wholly at a loss 
For facts which might at least have given her 
pause, 
And heaven we know is always close about 
Dear ignorance, to put an end to doubt. 

And then she had the stranger's solemn word 
Or sign, which we consider all the same, 

But not so he whose life would not afford 
That what he merely meant should bear the 

blame 
Of a thing said or done; 'twould policy maim 

If he could not deny he ever said, 

What to convey he every effort made. 

It was an age of subtle casuistry, 

When Logic was a science with great claims, 
When Nature on the rack of Alchemy 

Was stretched, and free speech risked hell's 

genuine flames ; 
An age when stars ruled great men's lives 
and aims, 



OSBULBAHA. 21 

An age of faith, so called, and real fighting 
The soldier's heart and priest's at once delight- 
ing. 

But lately had been opened this New World, 
To conquest and conversion of the heathen, 

And eagerly their banners both unfurled 

And hunting side by side you both might see 

then, 
Soldier and priest, raging to put their teeth in 

Wretches who groped in darkness without light, 

And had of gold and silver a great sight. 

Our hero was a product of the wars 

And marvellous adventures of his time, 

And would have ranked with the conquistadors, 
Cortes and old Pizarro, had our clime 
Furnished another empire worth the crime 

Of conquest, but the labor of his trip he 

Lost, finding nothing but the Mississippi. 

And now you know we have got upon the scene 
Hernan DeSoto, and no less a man, 

Who with Pizarro in Peru had been, 

Where with the horse he always led the van, 
Guide and forlorn hope of a desperate plan; 



22 OSBULBAHA. 

Ablest lieutenant and embassador 

His chief could boast and most humane in war. 

Fear not Osbulbaha he will do foul wrong; 

A hostage, not a mistress, it is he seeks, 
For love's weak bonds his nature is all too strong ; 

On gold his heart its strength of passion 
wreaks, 

And with not winning gold even now it breaks 
From westward wanderings in seach of gold 
Back empty he is forced his way to hold. 

By disappointment of his ignoble lust, 
His face as with a nobler sorrow seemed 

Ennobled — no desire of earthly dust 

Could so refine, exalt, one would have deemed 
A countenance of flesh until it beamed 

With that pure radiance, that halo of heaven 

Souls wear, we dream, without the clods they 
leaven. 

In even a mortal this unhappy mood 

Had won Osbulbaha's quick sympathy, 

As seeing in it her own's similitude 

Much more then in what seemed divinity, 
Like melancholy was she moved to see, 



OSBULBAHA. 



L6 



For pride with pity wrought to think a god 
Might tread thought's thorny path herself had 
trod. 

And so the fear she might have felt at seeing 
Herself, with only maids for guards, a maid 

Within the power of a mysterious being, 

Found no place in her breast, but in its stead, 
With faith and sympathy, came hope of aid 

To escape the fate, at which she now repined 

The more for new world's opening to her mind. 

And when DeSoto, more than ever a god, 
With sad, sweet smile, and with a gesture 
kind, 

Bade her come near and view the steed he rode, 
His thought her quick thought readily divined, 
And triumphing with joy and foresight blind, 

She walked beside him ; each knight with a maid 

Did as their chief, so had the plan been laid. 

Behind to mount them was no more ado, 
Osbulbaha behind her god was glad 

To sit and with him any whither go? 

The maids did as she did or as she bade, 
Misgivings not betraying if they had; 



24 OSBULBAHA. 

As suddenly as they came the troop was gone 
And no knight was there now who rode alone. 

The crash of the palmetto died away, 

But far along their course was heard the bark 
Of squirrels, as lonely as is the bay 

Of dogs along a road one comes through 

dark 
To those who wait for him and watch and 
hark ; 
No other sound was heard, the birds were dumb 
Until an owl spoke, thinking night had come. 

Then came the little birds about the place 
Where late she sat and pleased each one sur- 
veyed 
As they all peeped into her pensive face 
And of her pensive eyes were not afraid, 
And had they known how would have begged 
a braid 
Of her smooth hair to make nest linings soft 
For their bare infants she had pitied oft. 

With many a chirp of wonder did they pry 
About the seat henceforth would know her 
not 



OSBULBAHA. 25 

And listened for her voice with necks awry, 
Then to and fro as loth to leave the spot 
They flitted, till a hawk among them shot, 
Whom sole the mocking bird, osbulbaha, 
Braved and beat off with hurtless beak and 
claw. 



CANTO SECOND. 

Meanwhile the rival chiefs, each with his band 
Of chosen youths, stood ready for the play ; 

Stripped to their loin-clothes, in each tawny 
hand 
A tawny racket, at a point midway 
Between the bases mix they for the fray; 

Osbulbaha's sire, Wakoya, the ball 

Held ready to toss up, close pressed by all. 

He with one counsellor from either side 
To represent and for his tribesmen speak, 

Was umpire of the game, and must decide 
With fairness who his daughter wins, nor seek 
To either one his plighted faith to break ; 

His tribe's name, Wakoya, for his he bore, 

With good for no disparagement it before. 



26 OSBULBAHA. 

To guard their chief, and to enforce his doom, 
And keep the peace as well in heat of play, 

Lest deadly strife on genial sport should loom. 
The Wakova braves all were in array, 
Painted and feathered and frightfully ga) ; 

About their chief some, some at either base, 

Some up and down stood, each one in his place. 

Elders and children, wives and blooming maids 

On either hand upon the higher ground, 
Tiptoe and leaning forward, heads by heads, 
Watched for the ball to rise without a sound, 
Holding their hearts till hearts with ball should 
bound, 
When a keen yell, short whoop and lengthened 

halloo 
Made sink their high hearts, turned each visage 
sallow. 

And looking prairie ward all eyes now saw 
The herald Wakoya some hours before 
Had sent in haste to fetch Osbulbaha; 

His cry had frightened them, but now even 

more 
His hurried gait and the aspect which he 
wore 



OSBULBAHA. 21 

As he came nearer filled them with alarm, 
Osbulbaha they felt had met with harm. 

The wooers searched for her with yearning eyes 
Along the ridge's crest whence had hallooed 

The herald, but no shadow against the sky's 
White glare appeared their fancy to delude; 
The herald's word to Wakoya ensued: 

He saw Osbulbaha and maids, he said, 

Borne off on monstrous beasts by men not red. 

The tidings like a stone the father smote, 

But answering firmness in his bosom met 
Which quelled the choking fullness in his throat; 

Leaving to women wailing and regret 
On rescue and revenge his thoughts were set, 
And ere the herald's story half was heard 
He thus the rival wooers gave the word: 

" Tukloosa, Wakshay, here's another game, 
Who brings my daughter back brings home 
his bride." 
Thus spoke the chief, from both one answer 
came : 
In mighty vows they with each other vied, 
Before to-morrow's sun his face should hid^ 



28 OSBULBAHA. 

To bring Osbulbaha safe to her sire 

If 'twere to fetch her even through very fire. 

To rouse his followers neither chief needed, 
All left their rackets longing for the ball, 

And waved their bows and tomahawks instead ; 
Good Wakoya, in spite of the will of all, 
To stay behind brooked not for bitter gall, 

But fiercely called his braves to lead the trail, 

And deaf to maids' and wives' and mothers' 
wail — 

They darted forth like arrows from strong bows, 
Across the prairie straight to where they heard 

The foe had passed; the rest behind them close; 

Their long file sank and rose, now clear, now 

blurred, ^ 

'Till lapped in leafy w r oods, without a word 

They took the horseman's trail, and softly sped, 

Silence sole heard nor echoed their light tread. 

They crossed the broad slough where the bayou 
heads, 
Which with one big and many a lesser bend 

Red River with Atchafalaya weds, 

Unwilling bride delaying unwelcome end, 
They cross, but do not with the bayou wend, 



OSBULBAHA. 29 

But leave the ignorant foe to keep the stream, 
And take the forthright course to gain on him. 

A narrow path sufficed for their highway, 
Who needed but a passage for their feet ; 

In single file, their uniform array, 

To thread the wilderness from seat to seat, 
And such now led them dim and faintly beat, 

Through giant cane and thick palmetto brake, 

By trees overshadowed of gigantic make. 

The sycamore her smooth white arms displays, 
The sweet gum swathes her crippled joints 
in moss, 
The cypress spreads her table of greenest baize, 

The cottonwood dispenses snowy floss, 
Its leaves aye muttering threats of storm and loss, 
Nor wanted ash, oak, elm, all at their best, 
With *akhoma of all groves loveliest. 

And every tree with various vines was clad, 
Clasping their bodies round or hanging loose, 

And leaping with luxuriance run mad 

From tree to tree, here throwing a daring noose 
There pouring broad and deep a leafy sluice, 

*Akhoma, wild peach. 



30 OSBULBAHA. 

Oft roofing in the path from rain or ray, 
Beneath with soundless feet sped swiftly they. 

How many sloughs with cypress knees beset, 

How many moccasins and rattlesnakes, 
How many dry bayous they crossed and wet 
I will not stop to tell; my bosom quakes 
■ To think of some of Nature's grave mis- 
takes, 
And yet I'm troubled when a snake I see, 
Whether to kill or let his dread grace be. 

Some are so beautiful though terrible, 

And look so innocent and calmly brave 
To mammock them seems mean and pitiful 
In man, who ought to be a god to save 
The creatures which he boasts God to him 
gave. 
What we could do with snakes I can not say ; 
Indians their skins dressed and have eat them 
may. 

But now themselves that pleasure they de- 
nied, 
Though mostly they'd not broke their fast, 
but meals 



OSBULBAHA. 31 

With savages have no set times, but bide 

And often outbide the stomach's strong'st 

appeals ; 
To this they owe their lithe limbs and light 
heels ; 
But wrong and strong hope of immediate 
Revenge then made these hunger and thirst for- 
get. 

Where the Big Bend begins, whither the path 
Brought them a little while before sunset , 

They found the foe had just outrun their wrath, 
But, keeping still the stream, was in the net, 
And they were in reach of the one outlet ; 

And now to take breath after their long chase 

And counsel, time was given them and fit place. 

For here a greenest grove of akhoma 

Clothed the high bank and gently swelling 
ground, 
Home of the mocking bird, osbulbaha, 

And with the hum of bees first busy found 
Among its rath blooms after winter's stound; 
Alive with braves and with the sun's last rays 
Shot through the grove was worth a Mercury's 
gaze. 



32 OS BULB AHA. 

Who seeing these children of the soil, the trees, 
Welcome their human brothers to their shade 

Might well have mused on their like destinies — 
The one before the fire and share to fade, 
The other before firearms and sword blade, 

Both leaving stunted remnants of their race 

To grim wilds driven from every smiling place. 

The sun yet shone as on the bayou's brink 
They stopped, and by his light their forms 
and features 
The calm wave as they stood or stooped to 
drink 
Reflected, softened till these children of 

nature's 
Own making seemed indeed God's noblest 
creatures, 
And if to scorn work for the chase and war 
Made men the noblest, such they were and are. 

Wrong and the keen thirst for immediate 

Revenge at first had swallowed up all thought, 

In chiefs and men, of whence and by what fate 
This visitation was upon them brought, 
But as the vestiges in their minds wrought 



OSBULBAHA. 33 

Wonder and awe took something from their 

rage 
And now these feelings other signs engage. 

For numerous camp fires in the grove were 
seen 
Deserted and burnt down, but not yet dead, 
And tracks about them not of moccasin 

Or bare foot, but stamps like a hoof's hard 

tread ; 
'Twas not the horsemen, whose trail straight 
on led ; 
It must have been another, larger force, 
To which the troop they chased belonged of 
course. 

Then from the.Big Bend's other side there came 
A breathless fugitive, who told them how 

Beings with faces pale, with hair aflame, 
Had lighted on his village, but even now, 
And as the dry leaves from a withered bough 

Are swept off by the wind and scattered wide, 

So they before these monsters flee and hide. 

They questioned him about Osbulbaha 
And maids, but he could nothing tell, only 
3 



34 OSBULBAHA. 

That mounted on strange beasts a few he 
saw, 
Who leaders of the foot men seemed to be, 
But no maids riding with them noticed he; 
This was their main force then, the troop be- 
hind 
By night overtaken had bivouacked, they di- 
vined. 

Between the chiefs then rose a keen debate; 

Wakshay, more daring and adventurous, 
Wished to push on by night and not abate 

Their courage and their rush impetuous; 

Attack would stun the foe, embolden us, 
Celerity is everything in war; 
The time we take to tell the plan can mar. 

Thus Wakshay; but Tukloossa, wise though 
slow, 
Genius for council fitter than for arms, 

A surer, deeper scheme began to show, 
But Wakoya, impatient with alarms 
For his dear child, the bolder counsel charms/ 

And breaking up the conference with a yell 

He called his braves again to take the trail. 



OSBULBAHA. 35 

De Soto and troop the bend when half-way 

round, 
By night overtaken ere they reached the camp 
Of their main force bivouacked beneath a 

mound, 
And when the waning moon had reared her 

lamp 
Their horses, filled crop full, had ceased to 
champ 
The herbage without taint which hid them 

tethered 
And dew in dewy sleep their bright manes 
feathered. 

These were not jaded, much less broken down, 

By yesterday's hard ride and overload, 
For among horses they wore blood's true crown ; 
To Barbary their generous strain they 

owed, 
And all of them its speed and bottom showed, 
With virtues which, although the boast of 

men, 
Are only in the best found now and then. 

Docile and patient and affectionate, 

They of their riders' spirits' self partook, 



36 OSBULBAHA. 

Its impulse answering to as if innate 

'Twas little that they knew his voice and 

look. 
They felt the feelings which his bosom shook. 
Like their far famed Numidian ancestors 
Without a bridle they'd have gone no worse. 

And we may well believe that they were 
cherished 
For selfish reasons if for nothing higher. 
The place could not be filled of one that 
perished, 
And to be throned on horseback out of mire 
In land without one was itself empire. 
'Twas easy keeping them I need not say, 
With worlds of grass and none to graze but they. 

They had been duly trained to carry double 
And raw boned soldiers, sagging, sawing 
racks 
Behind had borne long journeys without trouble, 
To which these maids were down or feather 

packs 
That did not weigh, but floated on their backs, 
At most but ballast to their buoyancy, 
Which steadier made their gait and smoother be. 



OSBULBAHA. 37 

A sheltering oak with close palmetto screen 
Osbulbaha and maids apart embowered, 
Where tired they slept or wept with secret teen ; 
But she with more than woman's fancy dow- 
ered, 
And with love's quickening flame besides 
devoured, 
In present evils nothing evil found, 
But was in heaven though couched upon the 
ground. 

Her only fear the fear of being redeemed 

By dearest friends from present dearer foes, 
Which on her mind more clearly, fiercely 
gleamed 
For darkness and impatience of repose; 
For round and round the eddying current 
flows 
Of the same thought, driving the tingling blood 
Into her head and brain in fervent flood. 

Her ears were Echo's caves, where every sound, 
The faintest, farthest was distinct and clear; 

Each noise of beast or bird or insect found 
In her sharp hearing keen interpreter; 
From far the whistle of the startled deer, 



38 OSBULBAHA. 

The panther's child-like wail, the screaming 

cry 
Of bird and water-fowl from earth and sky 

Came to her and a cheerless message bore 
Of her unwelcome friends' approach; at last 

When she the torture could endure no more, 
Rising, beyond the oak's shadow she passed, 
And the palmetto round it darkly massed, 

Till in an open space she stood without, 

And then bethinking her she turned about, 

And Kyslaha called, The Magnolia Flower, 
Who was her foster sister and life friend: 

Both saw the light first in the self-same hour; 
Both either mother joyed the breast to lend, 
And laughed with pride to see the pair con- 
tend 

For a like share of life's and love's pure stream, 

And thence the)' grew up one without a seam. 

At the first summons Kyslaha arose, 

And all the rest awoke in fear and drew 

A lengthened sigh of wonder through the nose, 
And well Osbulbaha its meaning knew, 
And safety assuring them and her own due 



OSBULBAHA. 39 

Return, with Kyslaha she turned to go, 
When from the sky there rang a cry of woe, 

The wail of giant cranes ! and at their feet 
A limber length of plumage ashy blue 

Tumbled, an arrow in the midst of it, 

And this Osbulbaha stooped down and drew, 
And by its point and feather's fashion knew 

That it was one of her own tribesmen's make, 

And with it hurried on and nothing spake. 

At the mound's foot they passed the other men 
Asleep, and mounted to the top, where lay 

DeSoto, whom the cranes had wakened when 
They followed with that outcry of dismay 
And grief their falling mate, I can not say 

If to his soul their cry was ominous, 

But he uneasy was and serious. 

And hearing footsteps coming he arose 
And was confronted by Osbulbaha, 

Who with excited looks the arrow shows, 
Repeating oft the name of Wakoya, 
With signs to him and words to Kyslaha, 

As in another's e^ es' intelligence 

Her meaning mig5 t be mirrored to his sense 



40 OSBULBAHA. 

DeSoto was not slow to comprehend 

The warning which her signs and actions 
meant, 
But her no smile of thanks or kindness deigned; 
From yesterday, alas, how different! 
Gone was the sweetness with the sadness 
blent; 
Hard, stern and cold i'th' moon his aspect shone, 
Osbulbaha was chilled even to the bone ! 

The golden light of knighthood and romance 
And faery-land he rode in yesterday 

Had faded quite, and from the merry trance 
In which he wooed and won and bore away 
The savage maiden in a mask of May 

He had awakened, and to end the jest 

To leave her to her friends now seemed the best. 

This happy thought, born of her own presage, 
His troubled bosom soothed and spirits 
cheered 

But in his countenance as on a page 
Osbulbaha, too apt a clerk, poor bird, 
His purpose read and her own doom absurd; 

Befooled by fancy to a heavenward flight 

To fall as fell the bird from heaven to-night. 



OSBULBAHA. 41 

And as the flower surprised by freezing blast 
Upright upon its stern bows not the head 

And seems to defy frost by frost bound fast, 
So stood Osbulbaha by grief bested ; 
To wake and warn his men De Soto sped 

And left her marbled there in moonlight cold, 

Congealed within by misery untold. 

She saw the men as they were summoned rise, 
Don their accoutrements and seek their steeds, 

And these equip, while not one turned his eyes 
To her and Kyslaha; mean worthless weeds 
They seem to be like now which no one heeds ; 

Yes, some one; was it he? She could not say, 

Who came and raised his cask and rode away. 

And then she saw them move off, heard the 
tramp 
Of horses, all as in a nightmare dream, 
And could not stir, held fast as in a clamp ; 
But when the night had swallowed the last 

gleam 
Of helm and drawn sword, and on wood and 
stream 
Silence had settled, then the spell was broken 
And of her heart-wound she gave awful token. 



42 OSBULBAHA. 

From ashy lips that parted without life, 

And dry throat, horrible, and harsh, and 
hoarse, 
A laugh with which a wail held piteous strife, 
Rose stark, and stretching with convulsive 

force 
Her arms straight upward she fell back a corse ; 
In vain did Kyslaha lift her and seek 
Life in her eyes, death only did they speak. 

DeSoto had not heard that ghastly laughter 
And in not hearing may be counted blest, 

For in his ears and soul forever after, 

Its echo would have knelled his guilt's arrest ; 
But hearing not he rode with quiet breast; 

If poor Osbulbaha he gave a thought, 

He flattered himself he had harmed her naught. 

And so with a light heart leader and troop 
Came safely to their camp and friends, but 
narrow 
Was their escape, for already a whoop, 

Which had they been there would have froze 

their marrow, 
When scarce the laughter had ceased the night 
to harrow, 



OSBULBAHA. 43 

Burst from a thousand throats beneath the 

mound 
And Wakoya and friends were on the ground. 

The excitement of the chase, which kept them 
up 
Till now, cheated of its fulfilment, crowned 

With overflowing bitterness their cup; 

They sank in sullen silenee on the ground 
And utter exhaustion body and spirit bound, 

Till from the mound above a wailing cry 

Startled them as an omen from the sky; 

And to the sky all eyes at once were turned, 
When all leaped up, their weariness forgot, 

For on the mound's top plainly they discerned 
The maidens themselves, whose unhappy lot 
But now was their despair, all in a knot 

Sitting, with heads bowed and disheveled hair, 

Osbulbaha they missed till they got there. 

And then they were amazed to see no blood — 
Nor wound, and when by Kyslaha 'twas told 

How she had died, with sobbing and a flood 
Of tears, their horror grew a hundred-fold; 
This killing without blood, made theirs run 
cold, 



44 OSBULBAHA. 

For that DeSoto had killed her, they believed. 
And so he had, but not as they conceived. 

How she was carried back I need not tell, 
And how they buried her beside the lake, 

Beneath the blooming bays she loved so well; 
Only that Kyslaha, for sorrow's sake, 
Comfort nor soothing, sleep nor food would 
take, 

But wailing at the grave both night and day 

Soon sickened, and beside her sister lay. 



Note. — The names and Indian words in the above poem 
are so far authentic that they are taken from the mouths of 
native Indians among us who keep their own language. 

Indian ball plays with rackets, match games between Choc- 
taws and Biloxis, were common in the adjoining parish of 
St. Landry up to a generation ago. There was a striking 
difference in the rackets of the two tribes; the cup for 
catching and throwing the ball of the Choctaw rackets was 
beautifully formed, of a perfect oval, and the rackets were 
colored with smoke a fine light brown; those of the Biloxis 
had the cup nearly round, deeper and stouter, and the rack- 
ets were smoked a dark brown, almost black. There was a 
corresponding difference in the form and complexions of 
the Choctaws and Biloxis. (For DeSoto, see Prescott's 
Peru, and Theodore Irving's Conquest of Florida.) 



THE AMPHEIANS. 



ARGUMENT OF THE AMPHEIANS. 



The time of the action of the drama is the eve of the fall 
of Ithome and end of the first Messenian war, a war in real- 
ity waged by the Lakedaemonians for the conquest of Mes- 
senia, but for which they alleged two pretexts. First, the 
killing of their King Teleklos at a temple of Artemis, com- 
mon to the two people on the border, at a place called Lim- 
nae (The Pools). The Lakedaemonians pretended that Tel- 
eklos was slain while trying to protect from violence on the 
part of the Messenians some Spartan maidens who were en- 
gaged in a sacrifice. But the Messenians said the pretended 
maidens were youths in woman's clothes, and armed 
with daggers, and that it was a snare laid by Tel- 
eklos to cut off the chief Messenians, in which he 
failed and himself fell. The other pretext was the 
refusal of the Messenians to give up Poluchares, a man of 
note, since he had won a victory at the Olympian games, 
who had slain some Spartans in revenge for the murder of 
his son by a Lakonian. Poluchares had engaged one 
Euaephnos to keep some cattle for him across the border. 
Euaephnos sold the cattle, herdsmen and all, and came to 
Poluchares with a story of their having been carried off by 
pirates, who had landed on the coast. While he was telling 
his story one of the herdsmen who had escaped arrived 
and exposed the falsehood and villainy of Euaephnos, 
who then offered to turn over the price in atone- 
ment of the wrong. Poluchares agreed to this, and 
sent his son along with Euaephnos to receive the money. 
But, instead of pacing the money, Euaephnos slew the son. 
Poluchares first went to Sparta for redresss, but, getting 
none, took revenge into his own hands. When the Lake- 



48 THE AMPHE1ANS. 

daemonians demanded the giving up of Poluchares, the 
Messenians held an assembly and the two kings, Androkles 
and Antiochos, differing and being backed by their partisans, 
the controversy came to blows, in which Androkles and 
some of his friends, who wanted to comply with the Lake- 
daemonian demand, were slain. Antiochos died shortly 
after, and was succeeded by his son Euphaes, when the 
Lakedaemonians, thinking it a good opportunity, resolved 
on war, and having bound themselves by solemn oaths 
never to make peace until they had conquered Mes- 
senia, without a herald or notice given, crossed the 
border by night and surprised the town of Ampheia, whose 
gates were open and unguarded, as not expecting at- 
tack, and massacred the inhabitants in their beds or at their 
altars. The Messenians not having been trained to war 
like the Lakedasmonians, and being unprepared, could not 
keep the field against them, but had to allow their country 
to be overrun and laid waste while they kept within the 
towns, which the Lakedaemonians could not take from their 
want of skill in siege operations. Worn out at length by 
the yearly destruction of their crops and the consequent 
pressure of want, the Messenians, at the instance of their king 
and chiefs, determined to fortify, as an impregnable post, 
Ithome, a mountain in the northern part of their country, 
on the west bank of the river Pamisos. Before laying the 
foundation, however, they sent to ask the advice of the 
oracle at Delphi, and got for answer, that to insure a suc- 
cessful issue they must sacrifice by night to the nether gods 
a pure virgin of the race of Aeputos (the eponym of their 
line of kings), either chosen by lot or a willing victim. 

Lots being drawn, it fell to the daughter of Lukiskos, but 
the priest pronounced that she was not of the blood of Aepu- 
tos. A dispute and tumult thence arose, in the midst of which 
Lukiskos got off with his daughter and took iefuge with the 
Lakedaemonians. Aristodemos, another of the chiefs of 



THE AMPHEIANS. 49 

the A^putid race, indignant at the bad faith of Lukiskos, 
then seized his own daughter, and in spite of the interposi- 
tion of her betrothed lover, who, to save her, alleged she 
was no longer a virgin, but was about to become a mother, 
dragged her to the altar and slew her as an offering in ful- 
fillment of the oracle. But the priest declared that a mur- 
der was no sacrifice, and did not satisfy the oracle. The 
King Euphaes, on the other hand, held that it did, and the 
people acquiesced, and proceeded cheerfully with the forti- 
fication of Ithome. The Lakedaemonians did not venture 
to attack Ithome until four years after this, when they were 
met at the foot of the mountain by the Messenians. In the 
doubtful battle which took place Euphaes received a wound, 
from which he died. The Messenians then chose Aristode- 
mos king, in spite of the warning of the priests, against the 
choice of one who would bring upon the throne and land 
a stain of blood. Aristodemos proved a good and able 
ruler, defeating the Lakedaemonians in battle and driving 
them out of Messinia. Both parties then consulted the oracle 
at Delphi as to the final issue. The god advised the Spar- 
tans to try stratagem, and at the same time promised success 
to that one who should first dedicate a hundred tripods in 
the temple of Zeus at Ithome. 

A Spartan youth stole in and placed a hundred earthen 
tripods around the altar A number of prodigies alarmed 
the Messenians. His daughter appeared to Aristodemos in 
a dream, stripped him of his arms, arrayed him in a burial 
garment and set on his head a golden crown. Accepting 
his doom he slew himself at his daughter's grave. (See 
Goldsmith's, Thirlwall's and Grote's Histories of Greece and 
Pausanias' Description of Greece, B. 4.) 



THE AMPHEIANS. 



A TRAGIC DRAMA. 



CHORUS. 

' Tis the twentieth year since the midnight 

cry 
Of a people surprised by a merciless foe 
Rose from Ampheia. 
Through hamlets and fields, 
Thuria, Mylae, Messenia's blest vale of 

Pamisos, 
Stenuklarian plain to the door of the palace, 
Tidings of horror 

It bore to the ears of the good king; 
Only herald of war cruel Sparta had deigned. 
Like a lion in wait had she sprung on her prey 
Without warning or word, for the gates were 

unclos'd, 
Of the city, the people asleep in their beds 
When the sharp sword came 
To awake them from sleep with the summons 

of death. 



THE AMPHEIANS. 51 

Vainly the youth sprang 

For their arms by the foe intercepted, 

Vainly lifted their bare hands against weaponed ; 

They were heaped with women and children 

and sires. 
Of the few who escaped 
We are the remnant. 

Few, for the Erinnys of kindred and friends 
was insatiate. 

And freely our own 

Blood have we bartered 
For Spartan where raged fiercest the fight, 
Where most perilous foray or ambush 
Summoned desperate men to the hazard. 
And the men of Ampheia are known to the foe, 

And his bravest ones pale 

Hearing our war cry; 
For though few, no numbers appall us: 
Lives we have borne to Ampheia devoted 
Risked as the lightest of wagers and lost or won, 
Neither regrets us neither rejoices. 
Thus by no love for our lives do we live, 
Messenia, to share in thy downfall: 

For the day of thy doom 

Surely approaches; 

Thinned are thy ranks 



52 THE AMPHEIANS. 

Vanquished with victories, poor but in glory. 
And from desolate fields overrun by the foe 
'Tis in vain we a sustenance glean from the 
gleaned. 

Harry the harried. 

And Ithome, thy walls 

Scanty of warders 

By the terrible rites 

Hallowing their founding 

Have stood until now, but a foe who is craft 
Put on craft by the gods 
Many a wile tries 

And his last strength gathers no less 
For the leap on his prey. 
When Ithome is fallen, Messenia enslaved ! 
Her children the helots of helots, or borne 

As the wave which shall bear 
To break and be lost on a barbarous shore. 
The doom of the gods no man may withstand, 
But the right is a standard no battle can win 

Though the bearer be slain in the battle. 

S. i. — Vainly the blood of the virgin was shed 

by the father indignant, 
Thy foundation, Ithome, to sanction and hallow, 
Deed most horrid ! 



THE AMPHEIANS. 53 

Which can never to me seem a righteous act, 

Though by the blest King Euphaes so held, 
Hushing the priestly 

Pother, loudly a murder, no sacrifice 

Barking, and bidding him build not on foul 
blood. 

For from the god who sits at the navel of earth 
Came an oracle bearing this edict: 
With the blood of a pure 
Aeputid virgin bedew ye Ithome, 
Offered by night to gods under. 

Paralyzed hearkened the king and his peers to 
the dreadful announcement, 

For each of his virgin daughter thought. — 

A . S . i. — First broke silence Lukiskos demand- 
ing the lots of the maidens, 
Hurling his own in the helmet with horrible 
clangor; 

Slowly others, 

Lastly Aristodemos: 
"Unwilling I 

Throw in this lot my only betrothed maid," 
Said and his tears fell. 
"I, however, abide the decision : 
Others who are more forward abide it!" 



54 THE AMPHEIANS. 

Such were the words of the chief; most worthy 
of him named worthily, best of the people. 

And now the priest 

Shook, with a horrible clangor, the helmet ; 

Leaped forth thy lot, Lukiskos! 

Vainly, the priest was thy kinsman and friend, 
and no Aeputid maiden 

Was she whose lot came forth, he said. 

Efi. i. — An outcry rose from the breathless 

throng, 
And the voices of chiefs waxed high in wrath ; 
Swords gleamed, half from their scabbards 

drawn ; 
Spurning the partial priest's decree, 
Calling on blameless Euphaes 
Here to assert his sceptre's authority 
And silence the insolent priest. 
Stayed not Lukiskos to wrangle, or wait for the 

royal decision, 
But with his daughter in haste he is gone, over 

the enemies' border. 
Then all the rest were confounded and none 

dared ask for a new lot, 
Fearing his own would be the next to leap forth 

from the terrible helmet. 



THE AMPHETANS. 55 

Having no priest for a kinsman. 

Rage like a tempest seized and transported the 

Best of the people, 
Seeing the coldness of others connive at the 

flight of Lukiskos. 
Loud as the waves of the sea when the winds 

upon Malea drive them 
Roared for his daughter the chief and dragged 

her away to the altar ; 
Poured at the feet of her father and clasping the 

knees of her father, 
Pale with affright and uplifting imploring eyes, 

lo, the maiden 

Ready to perish ! 

S . 2. — Good Euphaes vainly strove her to save 

And her betrothed vainly rushed to rescue 

Who false words spoke, reckless, fatal, 

To save her life no life dishonored 

Which turned a stern sacrifice to murder foul, 

To avenge a great name's disgrace 

And closed the proud father's heart to pity. 

A blush of shame reddened cheeks white with 

strange dread before, 
On her betrothed burning eyes she flashed 
And mute to the stroke submitted. 



56 THE AMPHEIANS. 

A . S . 2. — What then befell neither saw nor will 

say; 
Good Euphaes quelled the priestly clamors, 
Which still the lot loud demanded 
As unfulfilled the hest of heaven; 
Enough, he said, maiden blood, a priests' the 

next, 
A priests' blood should purer be, 
And mocking thus Ephaes dismissed them. 
But T the maid see in dreams, nightly see just 

as when 
On her betrothed burning eyes she flashed, 
And mute to the stroke submitted. 

A, — Men of Ampheia, need you to be told 
That doleful strains neither the time become, 
Nor you as brave men who must know this 

truth, 
He loses cause who loses heart? For who 
To sick friend sings a dirge to comfort him? 
And is not countrv the best friend of all? 
Now listen well and lay this well to heart : 
Peace may have many voices various ; 
War must have one ; peace may have many laws ; 
War wipes the rest out with wet sponge and 

writes 



7 HE AMPHEIANS. 57 

One simply: All must help to save the state 
By word and deed, with body and treasure 

both; 
Who fails in any of these is counted foe; 
And hardship in this law is there to none : 
If there be some who want to wear the yoke 
Of conquered slaves must our necks too be 

galled ? 
No other way then but to put all such 
Out of the way. Therefore, be warned, though 

late, 
Lest life nearly ended bad ye end at last. 

Cho. — Thy speech, King, not us, but some 

others hits, 
Who still can boast, kindred and friends, and 

homes, 
Whose hearths have not been bloodied with their 

blood, 
And for their lost ones tombs with wonted rites 
Hallowed and draughts of threefold mixture 

pour'd ; 
For us no share of these, but in our ears 
The wail of all ours reft of funeral rites 
And wandering still upon the hither shore 
Disconsolate of hopeless Acheron 



58 THE AMPHE1ANS. 

Cries on us, with the blood which shed their 

blood 
To appease it or find lasting peace ourselves. 
We would not dreaming thus our foes await, 
To die as in Ampheia all ours died, 
But leave giv'n find a way to homes of theirs 
And give them an Ampheia for our own. 

A. — Why blood of kindred shed by foemen's 

hands talk of ? 
Why piteous cries of restless shades 
Missing their funeral dues? O there's a grief 
Could weep your grief to scorn — a woe that lies 
As deep beneath your woe as Tartarus 
'Neath Hades, kindred blood by kindred hands 
Shed, his own child by her own father slain. 
Into blood's vulgar ocean this small stream 
In royal purple flows, unmixed, distinct. 
O might the great Zeus give me but this boon 
To sleep and wake up like you reft of all, 
If like yours, these hands water might wash 

clean 
But this is womanish weakness that to wish 
Our main wish must confound since, if the gods 
Fulfill faith that Ithome thus shall stand 
And save Messenia, how will not all maids 



THE AMPHE1ANS. 59 

Living mine envy dead, their fathers me, 
Count all blest for that childless dealing blow 
Which childed me with glory, deathless maid? 
And of this why should I lose hope or you? . 
Who know yourselves not others have heard 

tell 
How oft from hence we have beaten howling 

back. 
Yon pack of Spartan hounds who hunt us here 
To choose another chief invincible, 
And seek new oracles of their success, 
And swear new oaths as vain as all before 
Of war unceasing till Ithome won 
Shall give Messenia to their pious wish 
And loving clasp and dear embrace — of wolves. 

And now the chances are as good for us 
As they have ever been, for even to day 
That oracle will be fulfilled by us 

Our envoys lately brought from Delphi's hearth 
Whereby it is foretold that side shall win 
Who first around Ithome's shrine of Zeus 
Shall place a hundred tripods. Add to which 
This one best omen, spirit to die or live 
Free, holding without freedom life not worth 
The living. This bad omens can o'ercome, 



60 . THE AMPHEIANS. 

Revenge of which ye boast is poor to this 
The spirit oi freedom. That bad demons 

makes 
Of men, this gives the grace and strength of 

gods; 
Swords drawn with this thought make a light 

on earth 
Which shines to heaven and rouses up the gods 
To side with men who thus approve themselves 
Their kindred. With this spirit and not revenge 
Go face the foe in manly fight, nor stain 
With murderous and marauding foray cause, 
Worth a god's ichor poured with blood of men. 

CHORUS. 

Thy words, King, have the power to kindle a 

hope 
In hopeless bosoms; ours they fill with trust 
Stronger than hope as daylight is than dawn. 
But, may we ask, for at a loss are we, 
By what means without means the work was 

wrought. 

A. — Your query is reasonable, for our folk 
Lacked cunning's cunning'st helpers, time and 
tools, 



THE AMPHEIANS. 61 

So that instead of brass or marble, wood 

Was all their hand, our haste could cope with, 

no 
Fit offering but if kindly looked upon 
And Zeus grant us to get the best for wood 
Hereafter we'll redeem the wood with gold. 

CHORUS. 

And will the offering, King, be made to-day? 

A. — The tripods to the temple are on the way 
And soon will stand within the halo blest* 
Shed round them by the gracious eyes of Zeus. 
And since behooves it that we present pray 
For true fulfillment of his blessed word, 
Going within we'll fetch our robe and crown 
The head of Zeus to honor not our own. 

CHORUS. 

We, too, Jupiter, thee invoke, 

We who homeless and friendless are, 

Whose sole home is in the house of Hades, 

Where the last of our kindred are gathered. 
Us, at least, Zeus, save from sharing, 
Rout and wretched overthrowing 

And the foes insulting 
Triumph seeing. My ears shut fast 



62 THE AMPHEIANS. 

Lest the shrieks of Messenian wives 
Tear my heart as they rend their vestments. 
Or smite as their breasts by their clinched hands 
smitten. 
Over me living let none rail, 
Over me living let none rule 
Of Lakedaemonian breed. 
Better dismal Plutonian realms 

That fairest lands and rivers where 
An ignoble conqueror still heaps new insult year 

by year, 
Till the living the dead envy, who in battle 

Died free and escaped the despot. 
Not ours the wish for peace and length of days, 
Rather war's distress and perils 
Than a prosperous age, 
Handselling yokes of bondage, bending knees 
of submission. 

PRIEST OF ZEUS. 

Man, is the King within, or not within? 

CHORUS. 

The King, priest, is within and not within ; 
If art not blind canst see him coming forth 



THE AMPHEIANS. 63 

ARISTODEMOS. 

Why thus unseasonably, priest of Zeus, 
Art hither come, since without some mishap 
The tripods must have reached thy fane ere 

this? 
Wherefore we hastened, not to be too late. 

P. — Not thou, King, but the offering, comes 
too late. 

A. — I heard of no time fixed by the oracle. 
P. — Who first, it said, a hundred tripods 
placed. 

A. — Say'st we are not the first? Then who are 

first? 
P. — Some of the foe, it seems, by stealth last 

night. 

A . — Some of thy treason, then, it must be, priest. 
First, how got foe unchallenged in our walls? 

P. — The watch must answer that, not ours the 
care. 

A. — Must answer for thy fane at least, sly 

priest, 
For till another is proved thou stand'st suspect, 
But tell the lying legend hast devised. 



64 THE AMPHEIANS. 

P. — The door behind the shrine I found ajar, 
Bolts drawn, not broke, which I made fast over 
night, 

A. — And which thou didst unfasten after night. 

P. — Without device, I'll tell thee what I know: 
When the procession bearing in its midst 
Our tardy tripods at last came in sight 
The temple's doors we hastened to throw wide 
To give them joyful welcome, and at first 
Saw nothing wrong within, but when our eyes 
Began to pierce the temple's inmost depths, 
Where brooded on by shadows stood the shrine, 
The space before it all at once appeared 
In travail with a row of ugly shapes 
Asquat like toads which seemed to be begot 
Out of the laboring shadows as we looked, 
Loth to believe what we were loth to know 
Softly I crept in, breathless, lips apart, 
Sharpening the edge of eyesight to divide 
Substance from shadow in the uncertain light, 
When on them fell a sunbeam from above 
And lit up every shape as with the smile 
Of Zeus himself. I started, for at once 
A hundred earthen tripods stood disclosed 
And the disorder of their posture proved 



THE AMPHEIANS. 65 

Them placed there by some hasty, secret hand 
Nocturnal. Through chinks of the door ajar 
Light now laughed scorn at us, and rushing out 
Traces of feet outside the door I find, 
And following them I come to a low part 
Of the city's wall with fresh tracks back and 

forth. 
No easy passage, for the cliff drops sheer 
From the wall's foot, no foothold leaving, nor, 
Though lower, does the wall seem climbable 
Itself to less than Hermes' winged feet, 
But the marks were too plain for doubt that here 
The temple's breaker came in and went out. 
All that I know I've told thee. Thence to thee 
For thy behest I come, whether those dust 
In dust to trample and make room for our own, 
Or, lest we Zeus offend, leave those untouched 
And place our own, giving between the two 
Free choice to Zeus: for thee to say what do. 

A. — And thine to laugh, whatever I say do, 
As in in thy heart dost, telling me this tale, 
For know I know thee knowing to this trick; 
Nay, didst contrive it out of spite to me, 
For whom hast never spoke good word, good 
word 

5 



66 THE AMPHEIANS. 

Fulfilled, but thy delight has always been 
To croak to me and all Messenia ill. 
Thy fraud provest, proving the foe, not us, 
The winner in the race for thy god's smile. 
And comest now to mock me with the proofs, 
Plain, palpable, of what, who wants to know? 

Enough. Can'st play a trick as shrewd for me, 
Not so much to thy mind, perhaps, but since 
Art all the ape the king has, hast to serve, 
And if thou love life better than a lie, 
Do as I bid. Go clear thy temple, close 
The doors and gather all thy fellow priests, 
The lazy herd which battens in thy sty, 
Round Zeus' shrine, and at thy whispered word 
Let each take and hide in his vestment's folds 
One of those earthen things which thou shalt 

call 
By no name; this done, raise the joyous hymn 
And lead them in procession to the fount 
Called of Cresphontes in the hallowed grove, 
And as they circle its brink with steps that keep 
Time to their chant, let each with his best 

sleight, 
Of doing as unaware a thing of stealth, 
Into the bubbling pool his burden drop. 



THE AMPHEIANS. 67 

Without pause in like order lead them back. 
Reopening next the temple welcome in 
Our tripods, and around the altar range 
With fitting rites and due solemnity. 

CHORUS. 

Our lives in a circle go round and back 

To the goal whence they started and men but 

live over 
The life that was lived by their fathers; 
If the gods were as men they would laugh to 

think 
How the clod Kresphontes cast in the pool 
Whence the lots for Pelopian lands were drawn 
Which claspless clasped the crowning prize, 
The Messenian land 

To a tripod moulded by Sparta for Zeus 
Now returns to the fount of Kresphontes. 

For the guile of the serpent, Sparta is foiled 
By the crafty device of the fox, Messenia, 
And surely wilt thou Zeus loosen the folds 
Of the coil in which Sparta to strangle seeks 
The freedom and life of thy cherished state 
And cut off the line of thy race from Kres- 
phontes, 



68 THE AMPHEIANS. 

Who came in the fourth human harvest to claim 
His share of the land did'st allot to the grand- 
sons 
Of Herakles, thy glorious offspring. 

If the fairest allotment unfairly he won, 
By a much vexed life and a violent end, 
He cleared off the score of his sinning, 
For his infant Aeputos did'st preserve, 
In the house of Arkadian Kupsilos, 
His mother's sire, and thence restored 
A name to give to the line of our kings. 
And leave to Messenia, his own beloved, 
For his equal laws and kindly sway, 

And care for his conquered people. 

LUKISKOS. 

For speech thanks, King, although you grudge 

the grace : 
As hard as it was for Orpheus not to look 
Back at his spouse in Hades, was it for me 
To come thus tongue-tied through my country- 
men ; 
And much it was, I did not bid them hail, 
Spite of the ruthless bridle of speechlessness 
Thy policy put on me; such heart thirst 



THE AMPHEIANS. 69 

Hath exile, Hades Letheless of men; 

And words forbid, tears flowed, as I beheld 

Faces of friends yearned for through years, or 

missed 
Among them many a dear one. First in 

thought, 
As station good King Euphaes, well named, 
For very bright his spear of thought was, 

true 
Its aim to hit the mark from others hid. 

In action too the warm track of his thought 
He trod; and grace his name fulfilling lent 
Lustre to lustrous garments gilded arms; 
This praise he would hear from me if he lived, 
Though men their praises husband for the 

dead, 
Sparing the living only flatteries. 

Others who clove to me, or strove against, 
Fellows I miss, and give them equal tears. 

And for us living, why should th' rancor live 
Of dead disputes? For thou even must allow, 
Aristodemos, thou my rival once,. 
That in war's actual struggle has disappeared 
The strife fantastic of our kings, ill paired, 
Antiochos and Androkles, and that 



70 THE AMPHEIANS. 

The counsel proud is turned to foolishness, 
Which faction then brooking no question yoked 
Our necks in by sheer outcry reasonless, 
And sealed with the foul death of Androkles, 
With whom died justice and wise policy, 
And overweening thoughts took wisdom's place 
Till arms and the strong arm outspoke big 
words. 

For insolence, which erst the Spartans led, 
Became our leader; justice, which before 
Was ours, now stood forth theirs to all men's 
view. 

And Sparta to a man to one resolve 
Nailed, conquest of our land at any cost. 
That faction which had riven our people in twain 
The violent of our leaders, of our youth 

W 7 hat pined for change and panted for the rouse 
Of arms from rotten peace carried the day, 
And she who sought occasion gladly seized 
Occasion given and waited not the blow, 
But struck. With varying fortune thence 'twas 

fought, 
But with the summing of each year's account 
The balance was against you till to-day 
To pnt off a few days the evil day 



The ampheians. n 

Is your most hope. But bravely have you 

fought, 
And to spare useless spilling of her blood 
And yours, and honoring your heroic spirit, 
Sparta sends me as fittest, being a son 
And lover of Messenia less than none, 
To bear the mildest message she can send : 
That you Ithome yield and end the war. 
Her terms for all are mild and merciful, 
For thee and household and thy nearest friends, 
Free faring to Messenia's borders, thence 
To seek abode in what land you may choose. 

The rest acknowledging the Spartan sway 
To go home and abide there undisturbed, 
No blood shall flow in peace for deed of war. 

A. — Word mild and merciful in name, in truth 

The slime the snake his victim smears withal. 

For me and my friends banning, for the rest 

To Spartan masters helotism accurst. 

In pithy meaning a laconic speech, 

And talkst of strife fantastic, dead disputes? 

Freedom or bondage was the question first 

For the Messenians. What is it now? 

The same, as thy word proves. The evil day 

Hast rightly named that which shall see our fall. 



72 THE AMPHEIANS. 

And be it a year or a few days or one 
Before the day of bondage brings us night 
We will not go forth to welcome in the guest 
Who comes to eat up feast and house and host. 

'Twas our mistake to take up arms too late; 
We will not match that by laying them down 

too soon ; 
The hounds were at her throat, the cry and blaze 
Of wretch'd Ampheia awoke night's noon to 

day's 
And slumber and peace broke ere Messenia 

drew 
Sword, and too stunned to strike stood at her 

ward. 

Occasion well hast said for cause indeed 

Had Sparta none, and how we might' have 

robb'd 
Of his excuse the robber is not worth speech. 

And call'st thyself who bid'st us do his hest 
Messenia's loving son? Who first thy race 
Forsworest, thy country next forsook'sl, and 

last 
To glory and gloat over her fall art come, 
Which make'st believe to mourn, thy voice 

accurst 



THE AMPHEIANS* 73 

Swelling to mouthing utterance of woes, 
Dids't love Messenia could'st not speak for grief. 

And dost not blush to judge of those who've 

died, 
Cold words of praise dealing to men whose 

shades 
Must shudder in Hades hearing laud from thee, 
Since living they'd as soon a serpent hissed 
As heard thee praise. And dost pronounce my 

name 
And call'st thou, me thy former rival, thou, 
Who art the equal of none free who still 
Would be, of none bond who'd no longer be? 
Deserter! what had we in common? what? 
Dost deck with the fair name of rivalry 
That lottery, thy foul breach of faith and 

flight? 

And talk'st of questions settled by strong arm 

Who lifting never an arm in any field 

Hast lived a hare's life hunted from thy 

home, 
Hopeful but in thy country's hope^ssness, 
But scared by every gleam of her success, 
Groaning and cowering to the ground with 

fear 



74 THE AMPHEIANS. 

Whenever thy country won, but brave and 

bright 
With smiles and shaking hands and giving 

To foes when they won she lost, telling them 
That they must see to it that this should last 
For all time, bidding them, thou thankless son, 
To keep their foot on thy Messenia's neck, 
Belittling her as thou dost now as if 
Belittlest not thyself belittling her. 
O, all ye gods, I pray, let none of you 
Give this vour nod but either him fulfil 
With better understanding, better thoughts, 
Or if he can not be made whole in mind 
Him and all his, quite and before their time 
On land and sea cut off but us the rest 
Make haste to free from overhanging fears, 
And grant unshaken safety. This take back, 
The heavy burden of thy country's curse, 
Her answer to the kind word thou hast brought. 

L. — His country's curse will light on him who 

stirr'd, 
Not him who would have stayed this foolish 

strife, 
Since who was the best counsellor the event 



THE AMPHBIANS. 75 

Shows; all Messenia's best blood shed, her 

towns 
Burnt, fields laid waste, that freedom thy vain 

boast 
Gone, nothing save this starved Ithome left ; 
And now, instill this in thy freedom's cup, 
Great Zeus deserts thee, need I tell thee how 
His latest oracle has been fulfilled ; 
That 'twas a Spartan soldier last night set 
Those earthen tripods round the shrine of Zeus 
Here in Ithome. Ha! thou pal'est at that; 
This is the secret of the silence wert 
So peremptory in putting on my speech ; 
Dost think if thou bid hush Zeus will not 

hear? 
The gods are not like men, to be deceived. 

A. — But like men, likely to deceive men 

thinkst? 
And that by such a barren trick as this? 
Does the wise Zeus sit on his throne in heaven 
Like the Sphinx on her rock by wretched 

Thebes, 
To trap and slay men with a play of words? 
Then earth has had some wiser kings than 

heaven. 



76 7 HE AMPHEIANS. 

L. — If thou art one of these will soon be 

known, 
For Sparta, strongei, better armed and more 
Resolved than ever, left Ampheia's gates 
At dawn for the fords of Pamisos, where 
Theopompos answer waits to what hast heard; 
O, would that I by skill or charm might find 
Some magic word of might to stay this strife ! 

A. — What spell can lie in traitor's bloodless 
word? 

L. — With the side Zeus takes I am satisfied. 

A. — Satisfied to see thy country enslaved, thy- 
self 
The slave most slave of all thy fellow slaves ? 
For thee thy masters now call friend and guest 
When once the time comes thou'rt no more of 

use 
They'll surname traitor to the name of slave. 
Fool ! not to thank the. gods and us who still 
Have kept for thee a country to betray, 
And so made thee worthy to be maintained 
And sent the herald of our slavery now. 
No more. Go back like Orpheus as thou 
came'st 



THE AMPHEIANS. 77 

Voiceless, nor looking back on her who lies 
Bleeding, Messenia, mother land of thee, 
And from each one of all her myriad wounds 
As from a myriad mouths thee traitor names. 

Chorus : 

Now is the plain underneath far and wide to 

the woods of Pamisos, 
Which late lay calm in the evening sun, 
Swept as the sea with a blast from the sky with 
a breath of ill tidings. 

Alas for the love of possessions ! 
Many in doubt between life and lost opulence 
Toss to and fro in a wretched uncertainty, curs- 
ing their evil lot, 
Sparing reproach to the foe who approaches not 
sparing their country. 

A.S. i. — Mothers with children drawn close 
to them weeping are leading them weep- 
ing* 

And turn to take through tears the last 

Look at their homes, but the grief of the father 

is truer who turns not 
Nor lets fall a tear o'er his ruin; 



78 THE AMPHEIANS. 

Still in his heart he will carry the memory 
Deeplier infixed with revolving years as an ar- 
row-head left within 
Wound that is closed, but a woman forgets in 
new happiness past woes. 

S . 2. — How sweet were a home in some green 

vale, 
Not in another land, but thine, O Messenia, for 

none is there fairer 
Under the sun or by kinder airs visited, 
With equal laws and abundance and wife and 

dear children. 
Far, far indeed, far have we wandered away 

from the blest time, 
Strange is the memory as of another life 
With other sunshine lighted. 

A. S. 2. — How late and how long ago it seems : 
Yesterday the infant lay asleep in the lap of the 

mother who listened 
Eagerly to one 'scaped the ambush of Teleklos 
Who fared as he wrought in a stratagem hateful 
And stained with his own and the blood of his 

maidens no maidens, 
The common shrine equally shared by Messe- 

nians and Spartans 



THE AMPHEIANS. 79 

Of holy Artemis called of the Pools: 'tis a 
Man grown to-day or a mother. 

S '. 3. — O Years of change, have you changed 
too the wrong to the right reason? 

Of spoil despoiled shall spoiler seek atonement, 

Is ancient grudge ,at cunning foiled to justice 
changed? 

Is Sparta, whom shame forbade any redress, to 
claim then 

For Teleklos slain and his maidens now to right 
the wronger? 

Ye gods, who in one viewbehold 

All that has been,*will be, is, 

Do ye judge and not make right? 

Or dwells there a power in wrong 

To gods superior even? Who says it blas- 
phemes. 

A. S. j. — Poluchares, thy wrong no less than 
that Apollo maddened 

And like the god's thy vengeance, who will 
blame thee? 

He smote the Kuklops forger of the thunder- 
bolt 

That slew his son; who shall ask then of a man 
more patience 



80 THE AMPHEIANS. 

With cureless wrong from a stranger 

Than of god Apollo 

With that his father's thunder wrought? 

Strike the wronger, not the wronged, O, Zeus 

Ithomates, 
Thunder-charioted cloud-wrapped 
And lightning-sped to thine Ithome coming. 
Hail, countryman, dost bring good news or bad? 

Ampheian Rustic. 
If good or bad news bring I can not say, 
But that the newest doubt not, for I come 
By nearest ways and with the swiftest foot, 
By fear made swifter, straight from Sparta's 

front, 
Whence I escaped at no small risk of stones 
From slings and arrows shot from Cretan bows ; 
But some god put their aim out or made swerve 
Their missiles ; so may all the gods no less 
Confound their great aim and o'erwhelm their 

trust, 
To take Ithome now and end the war; 
For such the boastful word that fills each mouth 
From king to helot, throughout all their host, 
Ithome they believe already theirs 
And allMessenia. They divide the land, 
And count their helots, free Messenian men. 



THE AMPHEIANS. 81 

'Twas at Pamisos' ford this fair wind rose, 
Which sent them hither bellyful of hope, 
Like a big ship with bellying sails all set. 
I saw it, and will tell it as I saw : 

I stood the foremost at the water's edge, 
When from this side I saw a Spartan youth 
Drop, whence I could not tell, into the stream, 
And ere could call his name who knew him, up 
The bank he came, with dripping chlamys close 
Clinging, which showed his very Hermes shape, 
And no less like the god's his winged step, 
Head's perfect poise, quick eyes and mouth 

that seemed 
To grudge speech, opening only half way, one 
Short word, word's opposite, to fling at us 
In passing, Done. The shout that rose thereat 
Ran after him far back to where the kings 
In council sat, and either wing's wide sweep, 
As sudden as runs the blast of flame on oil, 
For every Spartan knew what had been done. 

And when to me the knowledge came at last, 
Then him I likened to god Hermes, seemed 
The god himself no less in act than shape, 
If he'd done what his word and their shout 
meant; 
6 



82 7 HE AMPHEIANS. 

Alone had scaled last night Ithome's walls, 
Found entrance somehow to the fane of Zeus, 
And round his shrine a hundred tripods set. 
Whether the thing was done or not ye know ; 
But if done, and a Spartan did it not, 
God Hermes did it and was him I saw. 

A. — Hast risked life, run thyself to death to 

bring 
This dream hast nodding dreamt, fit to be 

chimed 
To jangling harp of roving rhapsodist? 
False or a fool matters not which art called, 
The time one law for both makes : if its doom 
Of stoning by the people upon the spot 
Wouldst 'scape, as fast as hither ran'st run 

back 
And tell thy Spartan friends how they are 

mocked 
And fooled with a mere fiction, dream deceit, 
A phantasm of god Hermes if thou wilt 
But ineffective, false and counterfeit. 
Tell them to-day our tripods first of all 
Around the shrine of Zeus Ithomates 
Were placed with prayers and hymns and all 

due rites 



THE AMPHE1ANS. 83 

Before the people's face and in the face 
Of clear Zeus looking into hearts as clear. 

CHORUS. 

This countryman of ours, King, we believe 
Is your well wisher, true in deed, in word, 
However he seem, and of Messenia's state, 
And let your sharp word do for chastisement 
Of his untimely which shall henceforth sleep. 

R. — Unsaid be what I've said, King, and for- 
got 
If thee it please not or Messenia's good 
At war with. Spartans are no friends of mine, 
And as well bid the dove go back to jaws 
That have engulfed her young and yawn for 

her 
As bid me go back to the foes I've fled. 
But if to stay be death, outside the walls 
Me with the foremost set, with spear and 

sword 
By shield unsheltered, bare of breastplate, 

helm, 
And how much this man loves the Spartans 
learn. 



84 THE AMPHE1ANS. 

A. — Then let thy tale of second sight sleep 

sound, 
Another breath of that and thou breathest not. 

DAMIS, KLEONNIS. 

Hail, Damis, hail Kleonnis, welcome both ! 
But why these troubled looks ? Are you amazed 
By these old threats of ruin which so oft 
Have gone by like a cloud? You are not wont 
To meet danger half way with doubt. What 
now? 

D. — Not from without, King, but within the 

cause, 
And would our looks might tell it without words. 

A. — Yet speak, for your words can not greater 

griefs 
Tell than foretell your looks, which plainly say 
Some doom has fallen upon me from the gods. 
Its own weight, not your words, can crush me, 

speak. 

D. — The weight to us thy words have lightened, 

may 
Our steadfast goodwill lighten it to thee. 
And yet how vain the wish : 't will help no 

more 



THE AMPHEIANS. 85 

Than take a feather from the mountain's 

weight 
That whelms thee, whelms Messenia, whelms 

us all. 
The end has come to tell it in one word, 
Messenia's freedom has become a dream, 
And at this hour she wakes to clank her chains. 
Kleonnis, thou can'st tell better than I, 
For how it came about didst see; my thoughts 
Were busy with the foe without, my eyes 
Were bent that way and were not turned within 
Before beginning middle, middle end 
Had reached, so swift the course of the disease. 

K. — One word of comfort to begin with, King; 

Bad as all looks I count not all as lost: 

That light thing, hope, which comes and goes 

to men, 
Has for the time ta'en flight and left us flat, 
But she may change even as the wind and us 
Again fulfil with all her airy strength. 
But now thee and Ithome our two swords 
Alone are left. The army with one spring 
Have leaped the barriers of sway and shame ; 
Thee nor Messenia they no longer reck 
And thraldom to the Spartan count for naught 



86 THE AMPHE1ANS. 

Against the freedom they now breathe in blest 
From duty and the wholesome rules of war. 
But to their senses we may bring them back 
If thou, King, canst allay the people's fears, 
Whence all the trouble has come as thou must 
know. 

For since the morning there were borne to us 
Breathings from time to time of a great stir 
Among the people. Looking cityward 
I saw groups gathering here and there to some 
Who spoke no light words as their own looks 

showed 
And theirs who listened. Soon into the camp 
Other on other tales of marvels poured: 

One Ophioneus, born blind, the seer so called, 
To-day saw light and straight saw night again ; 
Next the bronze Artemis had dropped her 

shield ; 
Two rams brought to the shrine for sacrifice 
Drove each at each, and like the Theban pair 
By mutual deadly stroke slew and were slain; 
They say the dogs last night all leaped the walls, 
Gone over to the enemy of course; 
Last comes a story of earthen tripods set 
Last night around the shrine of Zeus, the work 



THE AMPHE1ANS. 87 

Of a bold Spartan youth as some believe, 

Of Hermes' rogueship others — both alike 

Foreboding therefrom bale unspeakable. 

At first these monstrous tales were flung 

abroad 
At random, hitting no one, but ere long 
Rose cunning whisperers, who made them all 
Aim right at thee, as who upon the throne 
And all the land had brought the stain of blood. 

Trust in thee and our cause's righteousness 
And hope together fell. Then riot rose 
As duty snapt her bonds and showed a sign 
More terrible, more frightful to behold 
Than any lying portent of them all. 

We tried in vain to bring them to themselves, 
Then left them to the Erinnues. They now 
Among themselves wage strife whether to 

choose 
Another King or choose to choose no King, 
Of which the last carries the loudest cry. 

Thus from Messenia's body have they torn 
The heart, which thou wert, leaving her again 
The carcass which she was before thy breath 
Kindled the two-fold flame in every breast, 
Love of Messenia, of the Spartans hate. 



88 THE AMPHEIANS. 

A . — Damis, Kleonnis, thanks for your good will, 
Which gives me heart to speak your tidings else 
Left speechless. What my heart now bids me 

say 
Hear, and my last word to Messenians bear: 

Their voice and their free will made me their 

King 
And may unmake as freely, for I lift 
Nor hand nor voice nor stir against their will, 
Nay, do more gladly than I took give back 
The crown and sceptre to their handsfrom hands 
Stained for their sake with life's blood of my 

child. 

The good be all theirs, mine the guilt and grief. 
I have waged a three-fold war, with foes without, 
With priests within, and last with my own soul — 
The last not least, for herein though no sword 
Nor tongue smote thought gave wounds which 

inward bled 
Unstanched. But heartened by the people's 

trust, 
Else footingless, I have stood against all odds, 
Hating Messenia's enemies, loving none 
Not proved her friends by deeds, not empty 

words, 



THE AMPHEIANS. 89 

Wanting no power but power to make her free, 
No thanks but her joy in her freedom won. 

So may I without envy speak, my deeds 
However examined prove good will, not least 
That deed, alas, which priestcraft jealously 
Disowned, not pitying her, the victim, no ! 
More blood ! another maid in proper form 
Slaughtered by regular butchers, not layhands. 

Such was the hiss wherewith these viper priests 
First woke me from my horror's trance as I 
Stood, would the gods had turned me thus to 

stone, 
Above my maid and wondered if 'twas she 
Who lay there in her blood, bloodless and still. 
A murder, not a sacrifice, they said, 
And had the king not stayed me with his hand, 
Some vipers had not raised again to-day 
The same envenomed hiss they all hissed then, 
And when again Messenia chose me king 
But victory's tread trampled the hiss and dust 
From Sparta's stumble against Ithome's foot 
Choked up their poisoned throats. The new 

king's work, 
All said, what could not be gainsaid, his hand, 
His counsel ; they could not say luck, for luck 



90 THE AMPHEIANS. 

Is from the gods by whom I stood outlawed, 
Or their forewarnings all were lies and spite. 
Silence was wisdom, and they held their peace, 
But still in every hap ought not to have happed, 
All fevers of war-weariness they have stirred, 
As breaks and sprains when sickness of some 

kind 
Lights on the body, then they stir. With these 
The people have sided now, with these whose 

hiss 
Against me their voice for me oft has drowned. 
But sleep reproach, I leave to time their 

blame. 
The pebble at bottom of the stream in slime 
Hid now, hereafter will be brought to light, 
And in that crown of glory wherewith time 
Shall crown Messenia, mount its heaven of stars 
As sun the sky, beggaring the rest of light. 
I end with my first word: the people, I say, 
Are free to choose another king instead 
Of me, no more their king and who will soon 
Be nothing, best thing to befall the fallen. 

K. — King, if we stand not out against thy will, 

No longer to be king nor shun the task 

Of bearing forth thy word, a grief to friends 



THE AMPHEIANS. 91 

Here and without, think not we for our part 
Want other king ; far from our hearts the 

wish! 
But we believe that when the people have 

learned 
How lightly they can lose what they would 

lose, 
They'll long to get it back as earnestly 
As peevishly they've thrown the same away. 

D. — To this, Kleonnis' last word, King, take 

mine, 
Messenia's trust in thee 's unshaken, spite 
Of signs, and to thy call will answer, here! 
The people, all of the better sort and all 
In arms the worthiest overborne are dumb j 

In the insolence and noise of nobodies; 
Thy voice would be a sign to those to speak 
To these to cower in trembling speechlessness, 
But when the tide once stays, the turn is near, 
And they who went the farthest backward flee 
The fastest, bearing out to safety glad 
Whom in to shipwreck they are mad to bear. 

K. — Damis, we talk to deaf ears, lo the king 
Breathes calm breath at last on a throne re- 
signed. 



92 THE AMPHEIANS. 

We have got to do his hest, the people tell 
They have got no king and got a king to 
choose. 

CHORUS. 

S . — From headland beaten with stormy cares 
His overwrought spirit has slid, has slid 
To the windless, waveless deep of sleep; 
Great Zeus, can'st grant him not even there a 

shelter 
From the icy, glassy glare of the eyes of Erin- 

nues, 
The goddesses combing hissing tresses, 

The tireless, pitiless maids 
Who hold of the primitive gods and fate 
The unenvied office to hunt through life 
And not leave dead the wretch who his hands 

Imbrues in the blood of kindred. 

A. S. — From thee, Zeus, visions prophetic 

come; 
From thee, too, shapes of deceitful dreams 
To mislead the overweening minds of men. 
But him in mercy not for a mockery flatter, 
His soul that treads evermore the halls of sorrow 

soothe 



THE AMPHEIANS. 93 

With promise of peace and pure hands pur- 
chased 

Of kinder Eumenides. 

And banish afar from his dreams the sound 
Of dismal ford Acherontian, 

And thin shrieks shrilled no longer a voice 
And faces of friends death-shadowed. 
Lo ! as a fading and vanishing moon 
Conquered by daylight, pale in the dawn, 
Creeps the wife of Aristodemos hither; 
Heavy woe weigheth her down, 
As water a foundering bark. 

What is the glory of sway to the grief 
These two aye have sitting with them 
As their awful assessor? 

Such is the price by the powerful paid 
For their exemption from sordid cares, 
Toil, and the thought of to-morrow's bread. 
Better a humble estate and a life 
Pinched for the means of living. 

A. — My daughter stay, the victim hast arrayed 
Finish the rite: thyself my blood to Zeus 
Pour, with the same sword. Oh! 

JtHteen. — What is it, King? 



94 THE AMPHE1ANS. 

A. — A vision didst embody to my sight, 
For as thou stand'st thy hapless fathered one 
Stood in my dream, clad in black stole as 

thou 
Regarding me with the same pitying eyes. 
For thus my dream ran : battleward about, 
Full armed to go forth, I had sacrificed, 
And on the table lay spread out, I thought, 
The victim's entrails, when before me stood 
Our daughter. I can see her now stand there. 
Her eyes drop pity, while her faded hands 
Her sable vest part, and point to that breast 
I dare not look on, yet see without sight. 
O, hand that could uproot that lily, hew 
And hack with the deforming sword that form! 
O, gods, a demon, not a man, you gave 
To be her father, if himself it was. 

«^. — It was indeed a demon took her life, 
And not thyself, who thus can'st feel for her. 

A. — She stood next at the table and sweeping 

off 
With strokeless stroke the entrails, laid thereon 
A crown of gold and a white funeral robe, 
Then turning, swiftly stripped me of my arms, 
Put on me the feet-wrapping garment white, 



THE AMPHEIANS. 95 

Set on my head the crown of gold and stood 
Still facing me and fading from my sight, 
With look ever more speechless pitiful 
As it grew fainter. Mightily I strove 
To rise, speak, bid her stay by' sign or nod; 
At length with a great wrench I broke the bonds 
At once of speechlessness and sleep and met 
Thy look so like hers in my dream I seemed 
Alive, dead, waking, dreaming, all at once. 
Hast heard. And now my queen, would'st 

know what do? 
Within and fetch me here as soon as can'st 
A funeral mixture, which I mean myself 
To pour out on my daughter's tomb, if so, 
Or by some dearer, costlier rite, I may, 
Soothing her ghost, find peace myself at length. 

^. — 'Tis as if thou had'st read my very rede 
And heartily I go to do thy hest, 
Believing it will have a happy end. 

A. — To help me to my end goest heartily 
Notknowing. — What, my daughter, there again ? 
Dost stay for me? Fear not, I understand: 
The white robe and the crown of gold, I know 
Mean bearing forth of the Messenian King. 
And shall I meet thee in the under world? 



96 THE AMPHEIANS. 

And wilt thou speak to me there, comfort me? 
But what can thy ghost say to comfort mine ? 
Wilt say: Father, this death indeed is life, 
And that death stroke thou gavest me slew 

death, 
And dowered me instead with this true life 
Above all earthly? Wilt say this and shall 
I find it true? Art gone and wilt not say? 
I could not hear thee with my living ears, 
Flesh is too gross for dint of spiritual tones, 
But eyes thy shadowy shape has got, and these 
Have told me plainly what I will believe, 
That dying I shall meet thee, hear thee speak, 
And throwing thy arms about me with a kiss 
Thou'lt welcome me, and not in Lethe's lymph, 
But in thy love I'll quaff forgetfulness. 
Hast come in time, my queen. If good as thou 
Our daughter be, I shall be comforted. 
^. — Being thine she can not be less good than I. 
A . — Thy word with its good omen bless this 

draught, 
Thy hands that mixed hallow the hands that 

bear. 
Semi C/i. a. — The King his own death plainly 

doth contrive ; 
Shall we not then make bold to come between — 



THE AMPHEIANS. 97 

S. Ch. b. — Him and his sword. It were a 
foolish risk; 

What we may not dare he will not spare — force. 

S . Ch. a. — We may at least his rashness rea- 
son with. 

S. Ch. b. — With breath we may a little eke 
his breath. 

S . Ch. a. — In the light of words actions their 
colors show. 

S . Ch. b. — Speak then so speech no act exact 
of us. 

Ch. — King, quit of all debts, dost thou go 
away ? 

A. — This debt I owe my child being paid — of 
all. 

Ch. — Is not Messenia still thy creditor? 

A. — I have paid her with my blood and tears 
of blood. 

Ch. — Hast balanced the account and been dis- 
charged? 

A. — No; she discharges me without account. 

Ch. — But to thine near and dear dost nothing 
owe? 

A. — I owe them riddance of their bane — my 
life. 
7 



98 THE AMPHEIANS. 

Ch. — But throwing away their gift of life, the 

gods? 
A. — I give them back what they take soon or 

late. 
Ch. — Thy giving back is to the giver scorn. 
A. — The taking back's scorn balances that 

scorn. 
Ch. — With that condition comest into the 

world. 
A. — Infants at such condition well might laugh. 
Ch.- — Owe'st nothing to the gods then for thy 

life? 
A. — I owe them death and pay before 'tis due. 
Ch. — Rather thou throwest away their gift un- 
used. 
A. — Gift or no gift, I leave a useless life. 
Ch. — What if a friendly hand withhold thy 

hand? 
A. — A foe's hand, not a friend's would be the 

hand. 
Ch. — Would'st slay him who would only save 

thy life ?. 
A. — Slay or be slain he must would make me 

live. 
Ch, — Since thy death with our death we can 

not help. 



THE AMPHEIANS. 99 

We will not stand between thee and thy aim. 
A. — For this and your devotion to the cause 
Of our Messenia, thanks; and my best wish 
I leave you, not to outlive freedom, but 
To lie down with her in the selfsame grave, 
The same choice I choose for myself betimes, 
The same I choose for you in your own time, 
Till then, if any then be there, farewell. 

CHORUS. 

Unto Messenia now come is the bitter end 

That she defied bravely; 
Upon her neck is fastened the detested yoke 
Of Sparta, riveted the chain 
Of a subjection vile, 
Whose lightest touch numbs the soul. 
Heralding his country's fate, his child's ghost 

his guide ! 
A. S. i. — To the abode of shades, shade of a 
shade, the king 
Leaveth the light lightly, 
No ceremonial pomp of a lamenting people 
Attending him to a proud grave. 
But wilt remember him 
When Sparta's foot is thy tomb, 



100 THE AMPHEIANS. 

O my Messenia, freedom's breath gasping for. 
S . 2. — Better to die than prone pedestal Spar- 
tan pride ; 
Better in dungeon rot or upon battlefield 
Be prey to dogs and vultures left 
Than such death to live ! 
A. S . 2. — You that have lagg'd in war wail then 

aloud in peace, 
Rave out revenge in words, water despite with 
tears 
As under asses' loads ye groan : 
But we dumb will be. 



THE END. 



STRAY VERSES! 



DE SOTO IN GUACHOYA 



Your sorrowing, friends, for me and for your- 
selves 
Cease and hear wherein my death comes to 

me 
Not unblest nor to you unseasonable: . 
First then I say this death to me is gain: 
For how is it not gain even thus to escape 
The scorn which lies in wait for my return, 
The King's changed favor, grace to disgrace 

turn'd, 
Chilling reception, cold looks, freezing smile, 
Sharp question but dull hearing vouchsafed us, 
Dismissal thence without kind word, to what? 
To beggary and worse than death, contempt! 
For what were the discovery made by us 
Of this great river in itself, one, all 
Boasts of all others seeming to fulfil, 
Of Nile, Euphrates, Danau, Rhine, Rhone, Po? 
What that old Egypt here r&juvenate 
And copied larger out? A watery wealth 



104 STRA1 VERSES, 

To promises of Mexicos, Perus; 
Temples and palaces of gold and kings 
Swaying Saturnian scepters; dreams of wealth 
Out dreamt by a sleeping empire curtained off 
With wilderness from all the waking world 
To be roused up by us and captive led 
To Spain and Christ? In vain would I go thro' 
The tale of our wide wanderings in lands 
Stamped ours by the first print of horses hoofs 
Beginning with the proud first-setting forth 
With banners gay, bright arms and garments 

new, 
While in our breasts hope's music keeping time 
To drum and trumpet lifted us on wings ; 
The entrance on the unknown, the search in 

vain, 
The march through pathless wilds waylaid 

with floods 
Stealing like dragons through shades infinite ; 
Savage deceit still playing on our hopes, 
And cheating them with still receding gold ; 
The ambush by day, surprise by night and war 
Victorious without victory; great deeds done 
In darkness out of sight of praise; sickness 
And wounds and death heroicalty endured. 



STRAY VERSES. 105 

What boots it all this if we found no gold, 
O'erthrew no wealthy empire ; few the ears 
That would be turned to hear, fewer to keep 
The tale told till it took root in the heart 
And thence drew sympathy the sap of fame. 
Sage afterthought that had no thought before 
And spoke no warning would be wise to show 
How shallow the reasoning which inferred from 

one 
Another empire hidden away from sight, 
Brooding in secret on her mines of gold 
And ready to be thrust from rifled nests, 
Arguing as if themselves had known at first 
What unknown they'll have first been taught 

by us. 
Here me these idle speeches will not vex, 
Here I'll be safe from envy or pity, safe 
From questionings of relatives and friends, 
The pallor of despair, the speechless tears, 
Reproach reproachless, wailing keener edged 
Than railing edged with bitterest hate would be. 
Here sleep within sleep, twofoldpeace, nature's 
And death's, will me infold in double embrace 
'Till keels of kindred men my watery tomb 
Plow, with a living state not stone to me 



106 STRAY VERSES. 

Building a monument whose Roman arch 
Deep sunk in time shall bear an empire's weight 
Of this vast nature, mvriad-flooded stream 
Worthy. Then haply my name said or sung 
In accents known, a somewhat that is me 
Somewhere will reach, somehow with gladness 

thrill; 
Such is my comfort, friends, in this obscure 
Ending to a life that claimed kin with the stars. 
I have stretched it out too long, but now I'll 

speak 
Comfort to you as much greater as life 
Than death is — in one word 'tis said: Return, 
Grateful to you as it has been to me 
Hateful, for living equally as dead 
I had not returned, but nursed in hopelessness 
Hope born of pride and obstinacy of mind. 
These now you will bury with me, and being 

free, 
Take your discharge, and with good fortune 

friends ! 
Farthest to bear toward far Cathay and Ind 
Spain's august name and her invincible arms, 
With that cross 'tis her special privilege 
To carry as a torch to purblind heathen 



STRAY VERSES. 107 

Be your heart's pride for the world's praise, to 

which 
Add your commander's commendation, given 
Sole largess for long labor, sole bequest, 
Stamp without medal save your hearts within. 
This and my share of your woes' burden left 
Shames me no little and pardon I ask for this 
As for the sum of sins in one word said, 
Failure ! That all is mine, none yours, a huge 
Mountain to shadow with cold shade my name 
That from a golden throne's height hoped to flash 
Back glory's direct beams and be a third 
With Cortez and Pizarro, not a name 
Nameless to feed the flame of other names — 
Muscoso de Alvarado come, thy hand : 
This Knight I leave your leader in place of me, 
To praise is needless him whom all appraise 
At highest or ask obedience to whom 
Your love stands pledge; as needless him advise 
Who will have one wish with you, one thought, 

one aim, 
And flow on with your current as the stream's, 
Both bearing seaward, homeward ! word how 

blest 
Dearer than home itself is homeward bound ! 
I grudge you neither. Well content am I 
With this my journey : Be fair wind to both ! 



108 STRAY VERSES. 

NOTE TO DE SOTO IN GUACHOYA. 

In the History of DeSoto's Conquest of Florida, by 
Theodore Irving, a nephew of W. Irving, based upon the 
anonymous written narrative of a Portuguese who was in 
the expedition, and upon Garcilasso's account, compiled 
from oral statements of several Spaniards, who were also in 
it, the death of DeSoto is said to have taken place at the 
Indian village of Guachoya, on the Rio Grande, as the 
Spaniards called the Mississippi, a short distance above the 
mouth of one of its western tributaries, which Irving and 
others take to have been the river Arkansas, but Gayarre 
and others believe to have been the Red River. The ques- 
tion can not now be decided. The accounts of DeSoto's 
route from Mavilla (Mobile) to the Mississippi are too vague 
and it was too long afterward before the country was ex- 
plored for any clue to his journey to have been found. 
There is nothing left but this name, Guachoya, of the 
Indian village or tribe, but this is enough for an etymologist, 
and more than enough for a poet. To either of these 
Guachoya and Avoya are near enough alike to be the same. 
Av r oya seems a very natural Gallic softening of the guttural 
Guachoya of the Indian name as imitated in Spanish, and 
the fact that the name is not found on the Arkansas is 
enough for any one not over sceptical. 

Robt. D. Windes. 



RECONSTRUCTION. 



O fortunatam natam me consule Roman. 

Ulysses after Tujlly. 



O when will the reign of centurions and 
tribunes, 
Of the conquering sword a camp follower 
draws, 
Of bars and brass buttons and stars and red 
ribbons, 
Give place to the gentle control of the 
laws ? 
When will freedom again plume her pinions for 
flight, 
And challenge once more the keen light- 
nings of Jove? 
When will peace in white robes on our scarred 
plains alight, 
And hallow and bless them with labor and 
love? 
Will liberty wear the same aspect again 

As when first on the infant republic she 
smiled? 



110 STRAT VERSES. 

For the bloom on her cheek alas there's a stain, 
And the hem of her garments with blood 
is defiled. 
No more with proud glance she surveys the 
bright future ; 
No more in her gait is the goddess revealed. 
With eyes on the ground she is schooled by the 
tutor 
Authority, half in her shadow concealed. 
A commission of lunacy shortly will issue, 

She may rave at the traitors and utter wild 
threats, 
'Twill confirm the opinion and strengthen the 
tissue 
Of lies which the spider, ambition, begets. 
Like the old tragic poet she may cite her last 
drama, 
From Manassas to Mansfield protest all the 
glories, 
With the triumph at sea over one Alabama. 

They will scout all such stuff as an old 
woman's stories; 
And a final decree will be entered on record, 
Shutting up Madam Liberty close and 
secure : 



STRAY VERSES. Ill 

With authority and order assigned with full 
accord, 
To take her from court and her safely im- 
mure. 
What need of the titles and trappings of kings? 
To observe freedom's forms is the shrewd 
tyrant's plan. 
These will give place to those in the order of 
things, 
And the new world ends where the old one 
began. 



THE DIRGE FOR DE SOTO. 



A PINDARIC ODE. 



Strophe i. — Of a muffled oar or muttered word 
not a sound ! 

No sight of the boats but as logs adrift, un- 
manned and black ; 

They have reach'd mid stream, the hurried 
prayer is said, 

The cords are cleft and the shadowy shores 
reclaim their shadows: 

In the trunk of an evergreen oak; in the depths 
of a river unknown, 

Chuco'qua or Tu'malisu' or Mico or Ri. 

Many names of a stream naming Great we be- 
little, 

In the horror of night, by stealth, with hurry 
and hovering dread 

DeSoto art sunk to rest, 

In a grave no grave which thy bones will keep 

And thy name will speak always? — 



STRAY VERSES. 113 

Anti Strofhe i. — To this Avoyah sick, sick, 

in body and mind, 
He came and to send, not alas, to go hence 

homeward meant, 
But the King of Kings had called him heaven- 
ward: 
Seven days he pined, made his will and was 

shrived and to Alvarado 
The succession bequeathed to be leader and 

bound us to obey him by oath, 
Then slept, and his body to save from barbarous 

wrong 
We have found him a tomb which their rage 

can not trample, 
Nor their cunning may rifle, where cool fingers 

of daughters of snow 
His garment of flesh will shred 
And the sands each pitying wave lets fall 
Will his skeleton reclothe. 

Efiode /.—His thoughts no forethought for his 

lifeless body vexed 
Who of it living took no thought; 
Of honor his thought and not of life or death 
His dream, Cortes', Pizarro's deeds outdone, 

outshone their glory, 
8 



114 S7RAT VERSES. 

His fear, the scorn would stamp his deeds with 

folly ! 
And what will scorn do now? 
Home he will never come to hear the gibe — 
No conquest, only a foolish, fruitless quest 
For another Mexico, Peru, — 
Will it melt to pity and swell to pride hereafter 
While he the saying proves, he laughs the best 

who laughs the last 

Strophe 2. — Even in his grave, — a ghastly laugh 
and a grim 

Beseeming his mood who in life laughed not 
nor lightly talk'd 

And as time went on who always blacker 
gloom'd 

And froze over as a river in winter freezes over. 

Only once did he speak to us openly telling his 
mind 

And by night and unseen then he chiding be- 
spoke us, 

For the name of an empty trust had set on its 
holder to claim 

Exemption from nightly ward 

But DeSoto's voice from the Cacique's mound 

Where his sharp ears wakeful heard, 



STRAT VERSES. 115 

Anti Strophe 2. — In the hollow night rang out 
in the ears of us all: 

What is this I am told and who talks with tall 
untether'd tongue 

Of his turn not taken with the rest on watch? 

I tell him none, not the highest may shirk this 
highest duty : 

Shall a handful of men in a wilderness swarm- 
ing with devils from hell 

Who watch and waylay us to flay us and roast 
us by slow fires 

Anybody allow to be lord of his leisure, 

Be his worth what it may, his works in war or 
in counsel how great? 

The dregs of the same foul drench 

That ye erewhile drained at Mavilla, this? 

When ye pledged your faith forsooth ! 

Epode 2. — Faithless to be to what ye under- 
took, forsworn ! — 

Shames to the sounding names ye bear! 

Self-seekers and forsakers of your troth ! 

Who taking from the King the task to search 
this land and settle 

Cast in your lots to follow me and hearken 



116 STRAY VERSES. 

Then plotted to desert 

And in Peru or Mexico seek gain 

Or at home soft ease and leave me here 

As you said with scoffing, to find or found an 

empire 
Without your help, and by your plot my plans 

baulked, shut me out 

Strophe j. — Of the seas light lock'd me in the 

night of the land. 
And still do you hanker to live in others' houses, 

eat 
At their tables, homes and tables of your own, 
Who might have here in a land with the sea 

and sky for lovers 
That have wooed her and won her by turns with 

their presents of riches untold? 
Let Mexico boast of her mountains of silver, 

Peru 
Of her rivers of gold, but the furrows of Egypt 
And the flowery pastures, fresh, untrod, of an 

Asia free, 
And Italy's sky are yours; 

Here the Nile, Euphrates and Danau, Rhine 
And the Po in one stream roll. 



STRAY VERSES. 117 

Anti- Strophe j. — On the shores of which will 

a new Rome hereafter rise 
I prophesy, greater than old Rome, whether or 

not we here 
Be the founders, Rome's most Roman daughter, 

Spain's 
Unworthy sons, or a thriftier folk than we 

short-shighted, 
Who of gain and their pitiful lives, not of Spain 

and her glory, are glad. 
Whom your very children with curses for honor 

will crown 
If you prize not the pearl ye have found for its 

cheapness 
But shall throw it away by who may chance to 

be picked up and stand 
Hereafter a monument 
Of the folly of fools in a day made rich, 
To be pointed at always. 

Eflode j. — But once for all I tell you, bear 't in 

mind ! 
Here do I mean to stay not leave, 
And none of you while I'm alive shall quit 
This country, home or anywhither flee from 

your rare fortune, 



118 STRAY VERSES. 

Whereby ye may be founders of an empire 

greater 
Than any, at the height 

And happiest pitch, the sun has smiled upon 
In all his half a myriad of years; 
And as sure as this great river flows 
On to the sea, if anyone shall dare aboveboard 
Or underhand to stand in my word's way, be 

he who he may, 

Strophe 4. — I will strike his head off. — So the 

Governor spoke 
And all who in thought were untrue were 

shamed but flatter'd shame 
With a forced laugh, mocking those of looser 

tongue not wish 
Who made the plot at Mavilla to bid good-bye 

De Soto 
In the ships, that were then we believed in the 

waters of Appalachee 
Awaiting his coming, for such th' understand- 
ing, we knew. — 
But the plotters their faces withdrew from the 

camp-fires 
And in darkness hid, scowling, speechless 

struck by the speech they had heard, 



STRAY VERSES. 119 

For none of them knew till then 
That DeSoto saw to the bottom foul 
Of their seeming sincere souls. 

Anti Strophe 4. — And they plotted plots no 

more for quitting the land, 
But quietly took up DeSoto's scheme and 

dropt their own. 
But his clay in water melts, his schemes in air; 
The cry has risen: Home let us fly from the 

Land of Hunger ! 
Now DeSoto himself is no more, there is none 

for miscarriage to blush, 
And none may be blamed for not following 

further his leader. 
For the first law of kind bids us keep body 

breath in. 
For a ship to be built, wait here, and go to the 

island and back? 
Who knows if it could reach sea? 
Or the botch we botched in the sea could live, 
If the river seaward goes ? 

Efiode 4.. — The natives must have heard if sea 

there were; 
That they have not heard proves there's none. 



120 STRAY VERSES. 

So wish outreasons wit in their sick hearts 
And Mexicoward all their feet though travel 

worn are moving. 
Farewell DeSoto ! at the word thy spirit 
Plucks us half-hearted back: 
Already has thy soul possessed the stream 
And on our souls has got a demon's might 
To recall us hither from afar: 
For a devil's wit was it taught the savage 

chieftain 
Two }fouths for sacrifice to send us thee to 

serve below. 



THE CARPET BAGGER. 



Come, lyric muse, and tell me which one 

Of Louisiana's heroes, 
Renowned in story, shall I pitch on, 

To the airiest of boleros 
To sing in rhyme as sweet as her own golden 

strops. 

DeSoto found the Mississippi, 
And sleeps in its bottom muddy 

Like poet in his Aganippe 
Of reason bereft by study, 
As Soto was by rage for gold and conquests 
bloody. 

One century and half another, 

The river his turbid waters 
Poured or withheld without the bother 
Of levees or pale-faced squatters, 
Destined to extirpate soon his dusky sons and 
daughters. 



122 STRA7 VERSES. 

And no less dear his forests virgin, 

Which woed him with shadows floating, 

And whispered talk along his margin 
Till like Acheloiis doting. 
He clasped them to his breast with amber horn 
uprooting. 

Then came the light adventurous French- 
men, 
Good Jesuit and wise trader 

And he slain by his coward henchmen 
La Salle the unlucky leader, 
But romance-history paints him a mighty pleader. 

And so he must have been I fancy 
To melt with his clinking accent 
Men who tie farlaient -pas le frangais 
And could not know what his clack 
meant, 
Unless they traced his words and logic like a 
track scent. 

Then Iberville and Bienville, brothers, 

Harmonious as the Atridse 
Hands laying on the new land's withers 
A colony plant on thy bay, 
Biloxi, whence the history broadens down to my 
day. 



STRAT VERSES. 123 

And hither now I gladly hasten — 

Antiquities stale and hoary 
I leave to Gayarre and fasten 
My verse to a modern glory 
A name which aye shall stand a landmark in our 
story. 

The new discoverer, who followed 

The track of the priest and trader, 
But not like theirs was his path hallowed, 
He came as an after raider, 
When war had swept our noble State and pro- 
strate laid her. 

He came to raise not from their ashes 
The ruins of fallen grandeur, 

But kindle hatred's lurid flashes 

To flame with reproach and slander 
And lead a barbarous host, self-chosen their 
commander. 

To drill and discipline their numbers, 

To every bitter feeling 
That in an Ethiop bosom slumbers 
At wrongs of the past appealing, 
To secret conclaves and nocturnal meetings 
stealing. 



124 STRAY VERSES. 

A thing ashamed of his own shadow, 
But soon will his forehead rise up 

Like sunrise o'er Hell's reeky meadow 
And blinking his dazzled eyes ope 
In legislative hall mid specimens of wise ape. 

Or hoisted to the house or senate 
Of all of the States assembled, 

Slink to a seat whence noble men at 
Offences that his resembled 
Thundered till villainy through all its base 
limbs trembled. 

But that, alas, was in a past day, 
When buying of votes and selling 

Was far more rare than in this fast day, 
And gifts and base gain repelling, 
Their breasts with love of honest fame and 
country swelling 

Men served and thought not of the profit, 
Their country's renown their first aim, 

Then not to be unworthy of it, 

But win for themselves a just name, 
And dying leave their lives unstained by any 
curse blame. 



STRAY VERSES, 125 

But other men and other manners 

Now welcome the gallant hero 
Who bears a proud State's stolen banners, 
To proffer to haughty Nero, 
Who sends him back proconsul with a 
Durrellero. 

And now with years unchanged his nature, 

But only more deeply rooted, 
Behold the miserable creature, 
With honor's dishonor bloated 
Come back with old shame crown' d to new 
shame to be voted. 

Rise patriot scorn from beds of slumber, 
And drawing to a burning focus 

All rays our eyes flash without number 
When thoughts of his insults choke us, 
Blast and burn black with lightning glance 
the hocuspocus. 



PORT HUDSON IN 1862. 



'Tis Sunday coz, and such a day 
As makes earth all a Paradise, 
Our very breaths are ecstacies, 

We joy in all our eyes survey. 

'Tis winter, but a blest deceit, 

For stern December stole this day 
From springtime and the month of May, 

And doffs his diadem of sleet 

Awhile to rest from glorious deeds 
And view the havoc he has made 
In meadow, field and leafy glade ; 

And where he drove his unbridled steeds 

Down hills and left them dowerless 
Of flower gems and green drapery, 
Like gods in their own majesty 

Clothed of ethereal faultlessness. 

How sweet on this high knoll to rest 
And gaze up at the clear blue heaven, 
In which are hid the stars of even 

As thoughts of thee within my breast. 



S7KAT VERSES. 127 

The sun with undisputed sway, 
Like a true king doth glorify 
The subject earth and stream and sky, 

And civil strife's unblest array. 

Beneath, with quiet, noiselessf orce, 

Glides like a serpent from his coils, 
Red with the blood of fertile soils 

He feeds on in his devouring course, 

The river, sapping still the base 

Of these clay cliffs, red, blue and white, 
While war black-frowning from each height 

Is mirrored in his placid face. 

Beyond upon the farther shore 

Stretches the bare and blanching field, 
Stript of its furrows' juicy yield 

And sad as memories of yore. 

The scene, dear coz, in happier day 

Thou hast known ere rose the storm of war, 
When commerce under peaceful star 

Vexed ceaselessly this river bay. 

Now all is silent as when first 

The Spanish hero saw amazed, 
Perhaps from this same height he gazed, 

The river from the wild to burst. 



128 STRAY VERSES. 

Enchanting vision ! heaven restore 

The wild, the savage and his game, 
The bark canoe, the lone wigwam, 

The raptured stillness of the shore ! 

Restore the hero, tired and worn 

While round him his companions press 
To share in his proud happiness 

And view their journey's glorious bourne. 

Perchance among the adventurous band 

Turned some true heart with saddest 

yearning, 
As mine to thee is ever turning, 

To one who from his native strand 

With streaming eyes saw him depart, 

And thought, now she perhaps doth pray 
For me who am so far away, 

And even in triumph sank his heart. 

So view I thee in some fair kirk 

Where country neighbors wont to meet 
In best apparel trim and neat, 

And country beauties toss and smirk, 

And squall the hymns out through the nose, 
While some proud exempt ogling stares 
And thinks it music of the spheres; 

And their wise sires affect to doze, 



STRAT VERSES. 12» 

And sager mothers, blind as bats, 

See nothing of the play of eyes, 

But frown upon a baby's cries, 
Or think upon their future states, 

And leave the girls to fashion theirs 
By sidelong glance or bolder looks, 
Which he is stone who calmly brooks 

And does not notice what one wears. 

Whilst thou all this with a calm eye 
Observ'st and hardly smilest, so old 
It is, the preacher doth unfold 

With awful brows and cough most dry 

The subject of the day's discourse: 
I'll warrant that his text is war, 
With which he'll make the Bible square,. 

Show fighting is a thing of course 

As long as people go on sinning, 

That God will surely punish men 

For what they do in the long en' 
And without him there is no winning. 

And having ended here he kneels 
And offers up a heart-felt prayer 
For the poor soldier's soul's welfare, 

But never thinks of clothes or meals. 



130 STRAY VERSES. 

But thou, dear coz, will think of these, 
And thou wilt think perchance of me, 
Fettered and chained from love and thee 

And sighing for the day of peace. 

Ah me ! how sweet the thought that one 

Of whom it is a joy to think 

With holiest thoughts our thought should link 
And ask our blessing with her own ! 

And if we do not worship Him 

We worship what he best has made, 
Dear woman, in thy sacred shade, 

The sunshine of this dreary time. 



EDITOR AND POET. 



More idle verses, lame and tame and vile ! 
To read them is no longer worth the while, 
We've got enough to do us thirteen months, 
To the waste-basket let them go at once. 

So you break forth on opening this last batch, 
And damned unheard my rhymes get quick 

dispatch, 
'Es Korakas — hello! what's this? It's Greek! 
He means to insult me, the pedantic sneak! 
" lynx" shall pay for it in tittle bits. 
Another? Call this verse ! It gives me fits ; 
Go, " Opelousas," sharpen mice's teeth! 
Another yet ! The rest let this go withj 
Niagara no greater fall can be 
Than your love prehistoric's memory. 

Poor baited animals of editors ! 

Beset by poets as by village curs, 

Well do we know that poetry's your curse, 

Who have got to judge yet can not scan a verse. 



132 STRAT VERSES. 

Not you; no, no, I meant not you my friend, 
Your nature with your name can never blend; 
Scholar and gentlemen your titles are, 
Although the name of editor you bear. 

Curst flummery! I know what you're about, 
Get a rehearing, but your plea's thrown out. 

Well, henceforth, I will nothing send or write. 
I'll be myself an editor for spite; 
Put on the ass's ears of Phrygia's king, 
Set Pan his reed above Apollo's string, 
Smooth, level, flatten out the commonplace, 
And pet and pat its pert and pretty face; 
Or if I must write something, bid farewell 
To rhyme and reason and funny stories tell 
In dialect of negroes or Creoles, 
Miners, or moonshiners, or other fools, 
Well seasoned with a puritanic sham 
Of morals and political flim-flam, 

To win the applause of godly ones abroad, 
Who in belauding but themselves belaud, 
As foolish parents teach their child some slang, 
Then laugh and brag at his inspired saying. 



STRAY VERSES. 133 

Would you defame the glory of the South? 
Cavil because her genius opens mouth? 
And all the world is hurrying to the cry, 
To raise the halloo when her game they spy? 

A great halloo; but no halo is shed 
By all this flare up round the Southern head. 
The South is greater by sheer deeds and men 
Than some can ever be with mightiest pen. 
Those nothing can take from her, not even 

these; 
D'you call them literature? — buffooneries! 

They've won the crown; you've failed, and 
that is all ! 

The crown's a foolscap; better none at all! 
I am jealous for the country's honor I, 
Not jealous of the honors of a lie. 

You're getting scurrilous, I'll hear no more, 
And beg you'll take your form from out my 
door. 

I am not the ancient raven, and take my leave, 
Grieving if you in aught I did aggrieve. 



134 STRAY VERSES. 

So the blind bard from many a door was thrust, 
But when his lines, five hundred years of rust 
Had gathered, tyrants for a single one 
Bid gold and of seven cities he was son. 



OPELOUSAS. 



By thy prarie ocean,* Opelousas, 
Wrapp'd in twilight memories, gray and misty, 
I behold thee sitting as eve was falling, 
Forty and odd years 

Since: around thee bellowing herds and bleat- 
ing 

Flocks, and braying asses and shouting school- 
boys 

Beat as billows, while overhead the town bat 
Mimicked the sea mew. 

Sweet the sea breeze blew as the tender twi- 
light 
Fell on Old Grand Prairie and thee yet older, 
Opelousas, who in an age forgotten 
And of a gray land 

Wert begotten over the sea and not here: 
From the lap of France as asleep the town lay, 
Did a cyclone gather and hither whirl it, 
Up by the roots plucked — 

♦Ocean, three syllables. 



136 STRAT VERSES. 

* 

Creaking cart and steers and caleche and ponies, 
Dogs and donkeys, steeple and cross and can- 
dles, 
Priest and prayer book, houses and haystacks 
all came 

Carried by cyclone 
Home from home before anybody woke up; 
When they did wake never the wiser were they: 
They believed they still were in France and 
never 

Bothered about it; 

They had no time; they were a plodding peo- 
ple: 

So they worked on, hoarded their money, got 
rich, 

Neither loud jar, hearing of war nor mob roar, 
Fall of the Bourbons, 

Rise of starry Corsican, till at length came 
Men they call Americans bringing new laws, 
Then they shrugged their shoulders and only 
muttered, 

"Bah! it is oV d' sam' ! " 



NIAGARA. 



Lady, I shall never forget our meeting 
At forlorn Niagara, guest-deserted, 
Thou of name historic from storied Hudson, 
I from the far South. 

Last it seemed almost of unnumbered sightseers 
Ours had sent forth eager to look on your land 
Proudly claiming yours for their common 
country, 

You for their people. 

Short as was the time, alas, we together 
Heard the mighty cataract fall in thunder 
Never hear I echo its voice in fancy 
But I behold thee, 

Peering over Table Rock in the mist there 
Neath the mist-bow, breathless, with parted lips 

pale, 
Aphrodite thus might have viewed the conflict 
Waged around Ilium. 



138 STRAY VERSES. 

Only three days had we and stay we could not. 
So we took leave rilled with regret but hopeful, 
Roaring seas might sunder us and shadowy 
mountains, 

Friendship could leap them. 

Neither dreamed then war could divide us ever, 
Pour its red tide, bubbling and hot, between us, 
Blood of brothers fighting the battle over 
Fought by our fathers. 

Where is all our boasted advance in justice? 
Must we still have wars for a people's conquest? 
Never once get freedom without a deadly 
Struggle with tyrants? 

'Tis, it seems, by powers above us ordered 
War shall cleanse and purge with fire those 

whom heaven 
Destines to the noble career of freedom, 

Choicest of God's gifts. 
Thus would I accept it and breathe no hatred, 
Fight, but curse not, leaving to God the judg- 
ment, 
Freely off'ring life on the country's altar 

Fighting to free her. 



STRAY VERSES. 139 

Thus at least may war in its anger whelming 
Love and friendship, family ties and kindred, 
Leave us still the memory of our meeting 

Spanning serenely, 
Like the bow of cataracts ours and others' 
Passions : 'Twere no treason I deem in either, 
Why should not we sadly remembering past 
times 

Think of each other ? 



ELEGIACS. 



Wandering down by the seashore, sad as the 

priest of Apollo, 
Blind Melesigenes sings, aye, even sadder than 

he 
Or the poor exile of Erin, a youth who was 

crossed in his wooing; 
Unto the bawling waves bellowed this bullying 

strain : 
O what a vain word love is to him who once 

scorned has learnt scorning; 
And with Ithuriel spear touches the cheats of 

the world; 
Puny and sickly and weak was the love which 

I bore to a woman, 
Hearty and healthy the scorn which I now feel 

for the world. 
Scorn is the brother of Love, as earth is the 

brother of water, 
Love is unfixed as the wave, scorn is as stead- 
fast as earth ; 



STRAY VERSES. 141 

Sunk is my bark in the wave, and my hopes in 

the waters have perished; 
But I have reached here a rock, planted my 

foot on a stone; 
And like Oilean Ajax at risk of the lightnings 

of heaven 
Do I defy thee, O Love, scorn thee and all thy 

. delights. 
So did he rave, but sly love from the face of an 

idiot hunchback 
Smiled, and the fool was undone, mad as the 

other Ajax. 



IYNX. 

Never heard I voice of nightingale, 

Nor the sky lark's stream of song, 

Earthward poured in a cataract musical 

Quaffed, as singing he out of sight 

Soared a spirit ethereal: 

Mocking; bird we boast and cardinal, 

But I match not these with those, 

But far off in the wood and aloof from all 

Sings a shy bird seldom seen, 

Strain to my soul magical. 

For no sooner heard but at a stroke 

Vanishes the present scene, 

And far back in the past sudden light hath 

broke 
Blazoning with bright rays one, 
Sole, undimmed by dust or smoke, 
Page of that torn, tear-stained mouldering book, 
Childhood's sacred historv, 
And my ears catch the sound of a voice that 

spoke ■ 
Sweeter music than the bird's, 
Which its memory doth evoke. 



STRAY VERSES. 143 

Like a sunbeam piercing a leafy shade 

Glorifyng one small spot 

Either a bit of a knoll or a bank moss clad 

Such to my soul is this bird's song : 

Some place where in youth I played, 

Some day with its old light strange and sad 

Kindling up in my mind's eye, 

Echoing tones of a voice and a face long dead, 

Bringing to me face to face 

With the look the love it had. 



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